❝A single moment shared between two people is a small part and yet, a meaningful gesture. When many moments shape together, they form love. Just like how petal is a small part of a beautiful creation known as a flower.❞
An anthology of short stories...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
[Author's Note- His handwriting.
Her handwriting.]
Disclaimer- This diary entry solely belongs to the most renowned owners, Gab and Math. Although its password protected still, no one (except us) is allowed to peek into its contents as they are purely confidential. If our privacy is breached then the consequences will be brutal, mind you!
Fiinnneee... This blockhead suggested to write our real names because according to him, our nicknames sounded gay. I'll just write them for his sake, in case he suffers from memory loss. ;)
Our labels tags--
Gabriel Keating &
Mathilda Sparks.
*
#Entry 1
Remember, I'm doing this stupid, girly shit for you and you only. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else even if it were at the cost of my possible girlfriends or sister. You better pay me back with atleast fifty tickets of spa treatments.
And, give me Angie's phone number while you are at it. ;)
• March 1995 (Sorry but my brain doesn't have a healthy relationship with dates XD)
There was this ma'am who taught us speech when I was studying in acting school. This madam was special to me because she was the only teacher who didn't liked me. She was never satisfied with my performance. Well that was understandable too. Jealousy is certainly a bitch. 😜
Anyway that day we were having a test. I wasn't good in learning lines but I did my best and delivered the dialogues from Othello. Instead of praising me for improvement, I was insulted. Insults about not being good enough, not being worthy at all. That was a piece of encouragement right there. I couldn't stand being humiliated in front of the class so I walked out while excusing myself to the toilet.
My blood was boiling. I didn't know where exactly I was heading to, but then, I came across a pond in the clearing and decided to sit under a tree. As I gathered the surrounding with my eyes, I caught a dark red haired girl at a distance, crouching besides the edge of the pond. It took me a few more seconds to realize that she was making paper boats. That act alone made me laugh. I mean, no offence Mathilda, but paper boats? Seriously? My apologies. You see, the nineteen year old me wasn't aware of the five year old child in you at that time.
I had nothing better to do anyway so I continued to watch you as you tried to float the paper boat but it soaked, each and every time. The disappointment was clearly evident in your face but no, that couldn't stop you from wasting more papers. It seemed you had surplus of free time in your hands. You tore yet another paper from your poor notebook, folded it into a boat only to let it drown once more. I could have gone there to help you but I didn't want to, sorry. I was merely a spectator, rewinding a broken recorder in hopes that it will get mended.
