It stood stately some few centimetres besides her.
Pain. It’s what she housed in those drawers, no, not those, one drawer.
The second? No, first. Or the fifth? Sometimes forgetting to remember was easier than remembering to forget.
Today, she wanted to remember to forget.
Bottled memories. Filed memories. Jpegs in print.
Too many on some days, too few on others, never just the right quantity.
So, she shred them, diligently made a bonfire with them and as the flames escaped to the sky her soul soared.
She could finally hear Joy dishing catcalls, and she blushed in reply.
Emem ye ifure. 💜
Cc:Your GJ. ✌️