Memorylane storie

a collection of poems about all the difficulties and lovely little things that come with loving someone. a mix of poems from my own seven day prompt challenge along with other people's lists (including @celestialtruce's & @ascrittoran's on instagram).

Join me on a trip down memory lane while reviewing many of the best childhood cartoons I've seen.

As a friendly get together, arrives with his parents one of Avaya's schoolmate - Praphul. Both of them, later on, goes on to visit the new house in which Avaya's family were to move in future. And on that day, in the manner of playfulness, Praphul does something which he would blame himself responsible regardless of Avaya telling him it only happens for good. Past is what makes someone, it's up to the person to forget it forever and create a new. Or accept the past and live with joy.

"I really miss, The old me, The old you, And the old us." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ~Theme Reminiscence of the old me, the old you and the old us. ~Description Breaking us into nostalgia, reminisces us how magical the world was then than it is now. Being written in a first person narrative, it compels us, the readers, to lament the 'Childish' and 'Ignorant' version of ourselves and also urges 'Time' to transfigure us back to what we were earlier. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Writing Technique ~ Rhyming Pattern The second and fourth verse rhyme with each other in the first, second and third stanza. While in the fourth stanza, the second and third verse rhyme with each other. ~ Rhetorical Devices • Adynaton • Anaphora • Imagery - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - °Cover designed by me! °No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. For any exemptions or business enquiries, drop your mail at: sarnam.hari@gmail.com

Every chapter isn't a story, it's a feeling I lived, a memory I carried, a silence I never explained. "Chapters of Me" is a collection of poetry and reflections - each centered around a single emotion, object, or memory. From "School" to "Rain," "Tiffin box" to "First Love" - these are pieces of me. And maybe, pieces of you too. For the ones who overthink, remember too much, feel too deeply, or heal in silence - this is for you.

"Death needs not concern us , when we exist death does not and when death exist we do not" that was her belief until she faced death itself ...... Being in a tragic accident Anna struggles to arrange her thoughts in the last 10 minutes of her life. Every minute telling a new story , every minute unfolding a new truth , every minute summing up her 18 years of life. Struggling between life and death she chooses to sleep peacefully in the warm arms of her memories with a smile of contentment on her face knowing she lived life to the fullest.

!!!!!THIS WAS A SHORT STORY CREATIVE WRITING ASSIGNMENT I SUBMITTED!!!! A decade has passed, but returning to the house you once called home stirs up more than just old memories. The silence that greets you is deafening, and the atmosphere feels alive with forgotten whispers and lingering shadows. As you explore the home, you realize you're not alone-something, or someone, is waiting for you. The further you go, the more you uncover: a cryptic note, a sense of presence, and an eerie reflection that isn't yours. The house has its own secrets, and it's not ready to let you go.

Lucy is having troubling saying goodbye to her old bed before she moves in with Tim. Wistfully, she recalls special moments they shared that make it hard to part with the piece of furniture. This is just fluff.

Meher has always felt ordinary-just another daughter in a noisy middle-class household, wrapped in chaos, chai, and sibling squabbles. Until one evening, in black silk and golden heels, she locks eyes with a stranger at a wedding... and her world tilts. The woman is radiant. Warm. Familiar in a way Meher can't explain. She brushes it off-until fate strikes again. A second wedding. A second encounter. And this time, the woman isn't just smiling-she's shaking. Unbeknownst to Meher, the truth has waited in silence for eighteen years. Her real mother, once lost in a coma, is awake. Her father, presumed absent, never stopped loving her. And the life she thought was hers... may have been borrowed from heartbreak. Told through journals, unsent letters, faded lullabies and unraveling secrets, Eighteen Years of Unsaid is a story of forgotten names, remembered love, and the long, fragile journey back to truth.

Everybody has them; everybody will lose some... Join Luke as he takes a stroll down Memory Lane. Who knows, maybe we might find something interesting there.

i'm thee TUFF puppy.

a young man, had taken an advise from a lady whom he consider a friend, but the lady thinks otherwise.

A short story about the path to closure and the stories behind the memories laid to rest. There is more to a break up than just saying goodbye. Memory lane ♠ -A short story inspired by tfios

Stories that I have planned on writing and have some things written down but I have never gotten to them and will probably never see the light of day...until this book was made! Keep in mind that a lot of these works are relatively old and probably haven't aged well if I made something related to some content creators that are problematic now. Just keep that mind

Hello! My name is Autumn Haynes and this is my story about how I started writing more and how my story, Girl in the Shadows came to be. This is the first time that I am telling anyone about my past and this means a lot to me. Please don't hate me since this isn't really a story more like a look down memory lane. So, enjoy reading some of my online journal entries with me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is my second #JustWriteIt story and I'm going to try my best with this one. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before the sport meet, I waited outside St. Joseph's Convent - heart pounding like I'd just run a race I hadn't started. It was supposed to be the day I asked Kadija out. My first time ever. But I froze. Said nothing. Just watched her walk away. Funny how some moments never really leave you, they just stand there with you, years later, still waiting. Front Convent Gate, a story about the one I never spoke to.

!!!!!THIS WAS A SHORT STORY CREATIVE WRITING ASSIGNMENT I SUBMITTED!!!! On a quiet evening, Lily returns to her grandmother's home, the place where the warmth of love and cherished memories still linger. As she sits on the old porch swing, the scent of jasmine and the gentle creak of the wood summon the past, where laughter, fireflies, and stories spun by her grandmother once filled the air. In this tranquil moment, Lily reconnects with her childhood, learning that while the years may slip away, the love woven into each memory is timeless. Through the threads of nostalgia, she finds the strength to embrace life anew.

Prologue: In the boundless expanse of the cosmos, where the stars spin tales across the night sky, our journey begins. Welcome to the intricate weave of "Memoirs of Forgetfulness," a cosmic odyssey that unfolds in the spaces between memory and destiny. As we stand at the threshold of this narrative, let us gaze upon the celestial backdrop that will envelop our characters and guide them through the twists and turns of their intertwined fates. The night sky, adorned with countless stars, pulsates with an energy that transcends the boundaries of time. Each star holds a mystery-a fragment of the cosmic puzzle waiting to be revealed. Our protagonists, Leo and Mae, are mere vessels navigating the currents of memory, love, and destiny. They are poised at the brink of a journey, a dance through the corridors of forgetfulness that will unravel the threads of their shared history. Little do they know that the celestial canopy above will bear witness to the climax of their stories-a symphony of recollections, a dance of emotions, and the inescapable pull of destiny. As we embark on this odyssey, let the celestial weave guide us. Each word is a star in the cosmic expanse, contributing to the luminous spectacle that will illuminate the path ahead. The characters will grapple with the unpredictability of memory, discovering that forgetfulness is not just a lapse but a gateway to rediscovery. So, dear reader, as we enter the celestial fabric of "Memoirs of Forgetfulness," let the stars be our compass. For in the vastness of the night sky, amidst the cosmic dance, Leo and Mae's journey will unfold, reverberating through the corridors of memory and resonating with the universal themes that connect us all.

Ang entry ng buhay ni Alicia Reese Auxford. Bow. Ayun, kwento lang ng kanyang buhay. Kwento ng isang taon sa isang baitang bilang highschool. Masaya, malungkot, nakakabaliw na mga panahon na walang kasiguraduhan kung paano magtatapos. Ano bang meron ang eskwelahan na kanyang pinasukan para sa kanya? Friends, good grades, good conduct or is it the other way around? Who knows? Wala naman talaga tayo dapat iexpect kundi stress, puyat at projects. Ano nga bang kwento ng estudyante sa kanyang pananaw? Iba ibang experience para sa iba ibang tao.

In The Old Schoolhouse: How Time Flies, a writer's quiet visit to a forgotten one-room schoolhouse stirs powerful visions of the past. Through dusty relics, community records, and a chance encounter with a former student, he uncovers a tapestry of rural life, war, loss, resilience-and the enduring legacy of teachers. A story of memory, connection, and the seeds of knowledge we continue to plant.