as I walk through a gallery of memories, looming into paintings of friendships past, edges frayed and faces faded, I stride towards ours -- in top mint condition with blazing colors and a shiny gold frame. a priceless souvenir of joy tinted with nostalgia.
a portrait of two girls, splashing water at each other at their local pool. one in, one out, capturing the moments on film. her chestnut hair falling in her eyes as she giggles the day away, sunshine bouncing off the other's hair but staining her cheeks a deep cherry. as they sunbathe, they fall into a gentle sleep with soft smiles on their lips.
behind the portrait lay a darkened room full of relics from once upon a time. rows full of vials of tears, notes of a forgotten melody echoing delicately in the distance, a family photo torn in pieces, and teenage dreams stained with vivid blood.
I escape the room, out of breath. I stand with my hands on my knees, heaving, watching the tears splatter on the floor making the old stains visible again. without bothering to wipe my eyes, I pull myself back to my full height and stare into the old painting again. "I'll be back again tomorrow" I whisper, before turning my back and walking away.
YOU ARE READING
stream of consciousness
Randomstream of consciousness (n.) - a narrative mode or method that attempts "to depict the multitudinous thoughts and feelings which pass through the mind" of a narrator.
