Tuesday, September 06, 2022

3995 : Another day from our figments

Do you remember that we once sat on the last seat of a crowded bus?

We laughed as if we were upto something surreptitious. We spoke of how your dream has been sliding down a canal, and how my errors are singing like a canary.

I recall thanking the vehicular jam on that rainy evening. The other memory I have is of you, nervously fiddling with that shard of thread from your jacket.

Its easy to be rattled on the last seats of a bus. We lost the battle.

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