"hey."
"yeah?"
"do you see that cloud?"
"what about it?"
"it looks like a rose."
"oh, i see it."
"hey, don't you feel like the memories we make are like flowers?"
"what makes you say that? are you a philosopher now?"
"oh shut up! it's because we plant the memories in our minds and as time goes by, that memory becomes a beautiful plant that we can go back to from time to time and cherish. it can symbolize the good things in life."
"and what if it dies?"
"then we plant new ones, duh."
the plants we planted are long gone
so why don't we just plant new ones?
A/N: i'm noticing a lot of ghost reading going around here...VOTE, COMMENT (criticize me), and SHARE with your friends!
YOU ARE READING
anathema
Short Storyshe's nothing more but anathema to him. //inspired by a song by twenty one pilots
