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Not The End

It just doesn’t end like this.

You, Me, Us, We.

This. Whatever this is.

You met me in the middle of winter last year. Just when the birds were settled in their cosy nests, the leafless trees covers with snow and me struggling to put on my jacket as I was stepping out of the bookstore.

You were in there too. I’d seen you in the Ancient History section, flipping through a book on Greek Gods and Goddesses. To be honest, I wanted to come up to you and tell you that you, yourself looked like one. But, which one I couldn’t really point out.

Of course I didn’t do that otherwise how would you, then, be standing next to me, helping me get into my jacket? I noticed you were empty handed. I guess, Greek Gods aren’t that impressive.

As I blushed a little and thanked you, your eyes fell on the book I had picked. I don’t know if it was sadness or just some game universe was playing with you because apparently you were looking for the book everywhere in town and I had just bought the last copy.

You asked if I would want to lend it to you after I finished reading it. Never have I ever agreed to lend someone my book. Ever. But, I agreed. You grabbed the book and scribbled your name and number on it. That audacity. Oh my goodness. I had decided, I would never call you and lend you the book. Who writes on the book?

But, as I read each paragraph, each page, each chapter, I saw you in the character. Even though I hardly knew you. So, after weeks of contemplation, I called you. We met, you took the book and you texted me the moment we left the cafe. Ever since, you haven’t kept quiet. Not that I’m complaining.

From books, to movies, to songs, to sportsmen. We spoke about everything.

So, this, whatever this is.

You, Me, Us, We.

It just doesn’t end like this.



words for the day

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