| An Amourshipping Story |
[but can be read as an individual story too]
mémoire = memory
The most tragic stories happen when a girl meets a boy and they fall in love. But when a girl falls in love with a boy who only existed in her memory, the stor...
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December—a horrible word, the worst month and a terrifying feeling.
People had elegantly summarised all happiness and sadness as: good times follow bad ones. But no one had ever mentioned that some bad times just kept recurring by springing up once in a while and forcing you to relive them from memory.
For Serena—it was every December that carried that bad time. And by now, using bad was too vague to describe it.
She flipped a page of her textbook and put another streak of fluorescent yellow on a sentence as she read through it again. "The original drifted population becomes founders and the effect is called founder effect," she mumbled under her breath and sighed heavily. She pushed her chair away from the table and looked at the book in defeat. She then raised her head and looked out of the window.
The window was misty and the drops of condensed water slowly rolled down the glass when they could no longer bear the weight of their own volume.
A weirdly relatable phenomenon.
Serena got up and picked up the old rug that she kept under her table, and wiped the mist off the window. She stared outside and let out another long sigh.
The sky had a freezing grey colour with tufts of darker clouds floating slowly in a directional motion. The streets, lamp posts, benches, sidewalks, roofs of houses—everything in sight was covered with a layer of fresh snow, creating a beautiful scenery like a winter wonderland.
December carried wonder, amazement and a mysterious beauty. Every season marked its beginning by something falling from the sky—in spring it was little flowers and petals; in autumn it was drying leaves; summers had some spells of rain along with the scorching heat; in winters it was snowflakes. And unlike all others, snowflakes had an intricate shape and they shone like little glitter under the faint sun.
In simple words—they were mesmerising. They left everyone awestruck, even those who hated the snow.
Serena found a magnificent grace in the way snowflakes drizzled down. She always caught herself looking forward to seeing it. It gave her a sense of calmness and peace—like a place to run to, away from her inner turmoil.
Snowfall and Christmas were the only things she loved about December. Besides that it was simply the worst month.
December meant cold days and freezing nights. No outings, little to no sunlight, constant sleepiness, no greenery, no scented flowers, no cold desserts—just pure misery. On top of that, Professor Sycamore always conducted exams just before Christmas. "End the year while reflecting on how you fared in your studies," was his classic reasoning. This meant studying while your brain screamed blanket and sleep.
But worse of all, December equaled staying indoors which meant living with your thoughts.
