In one harajuku morning, where petals of cherry sakuras danced in swirls one after another... sitting at the heart of a hundred acre tree, punctuations after another, the comma, the full stop, the "!" which eventually led to a "?", everything was held flamboyantly at the end of each sentences..
Hands warmed in her fuchsia woolen gloves, Elicia settled with the 7th chapter from " the history of love". Deep in thought, a fuzzy tingle received from the autumn breeze broke the comforting silence. Traces of thoughts were swept across like the petals that have fallen gracefully. A beauty personified.
A small bulge could be felt from the pockets of her Zara coat.Her gloves that were left wrinkled when taken off was a queer gesture that she had sworn " Dejavu" would have been it for the umpteen times. An unbreakable habit. Sugar Sachets. Ha. "What else could have been it..", as she chuckles silently to this moment of sweet reminisce. Evidently, she drop the last two sachets to a cookie jar. Picky to this particular secret, it was brown sugar as only the closest one would have ever known. The unspoken would embark on a discovery for centuries if they would have never bothered to ask.
Giving the jar a little shake, the sachets tumbled and fell into place. Starbucks, Gloria Jeans, the small granular ones from the latte cafe across the street, anonymous wrappers that were randomly collected on "rainy" days; they were memories of hers. A closure that she only knew. "No strings attached" was the only way she would ever depict life. Deep in superficiality, sweetener could never ever replaced these old condiments.
How she would always enter perfume shops and grab a tester strip just to bookmark her books,she placed ' love etc" strip at page 36 and proceed to tear the corners of one sugar sachet. Vanilla Latte, simply furnished with a thick froth of luxurious foam would be soon identified. Granulas fell from the torn corners on to the froth, resembling snowflakes on a white Russian Christmas.
One deep sip, and she turn to the back of the sachet wrapper....
Hands warmed in her fuchsia woolen gloves, Elicia settled with the 7th chapter from " the history of love". Deep in thought, a fuzzy tingle received from the autumn breeze broke the comforting silence. Traces of thoughts were swept across like the petals that have fallen gracefully. A beauty personified.
A small bulge could be felt from the pockets of her Zara coat.Her gloves that were left wrinkled when taken off was a queer gesture that she had sworn " Dejavu" would have been it for the umpteen times. An unbreakable habit. Sugar Sachets. Ha. "What else could have been it..", as she chuckles silently to this moment of sweet reminisce. Evidently, she drop the last two sachets to a cookie jar. Picky to this particular secret, it was brown sugar as only the closest one would have ever known. The unspoken would embark on a discovery for centuries if they would have never bothered to ask.
Giving the jar a little shake, the sachets tumbled and fell into place. Starbucks, Gloria Jeans, the small granular ones from the latte cafe across the street, anonymous wrappers that were randomly collected on "rainy" days; they were memories of hers. A closure that she only knew. "No strings attached" was the only way she would ever depict life. Deep in superficiality, sweetener could never ever replaced these old condiments.
How she would always enter perfume shops and grab a tester strip just to bookmark her books,she placed ' love etc" strip at page 36 and proceed to tear the corners of one sugar sachet. Vanilla Latte, simply furnished with a thick froth of luxurious foam would be soon identified. Granulas fell from the torn corners on to the froth, resembling snowflakes on a white Russian Christmas.
One deep sip, and she turn to the back of the sachet wrapper....
even though the wrapper didn said so... she proceed to say:
" this one taste just like... love."
Bittersweet.
She scribbled on the wrapper and left it under the tree. Moments after, fists clutched tightly to her baggage, departed to catch a flight of no return at the airport.
Ps: " should you ever travel around the world, bring me one sugar sachet from any cafe you stop by.. let it remind you of me.. for that instant..something that had no meaning could be brought to life . All it takes is just one packet of brown sugar.. and you will know how deep my footprints have left themselves when we crossed paths for the very first and last time"
Love, Elicia..
__________________
A secret revealed.
Sy, this is for you. hahas i finally wrote it after much thoughts at the terminal.
Thanks for making my day better. Hope you like this story that i dedicated to you and to all my friends and lovers around me.
小时候，妈妈常说不要吃太多糖。。由此是考试的时候。。因为糖原本就能让一个人失忆。。
i guess thats the reason why i never listened.
lights off
" this one taste just like... love."
Bittersweet.
She scribbled on the wrapper and left it under the tree. Moments after, fists clutched tightly to her baggage, departed to catch a flight of no return at the airport.
Ps: " should you ever travel around the world, bring me one sugar sachet from any cafe you stop by.. let it remind you of me.. for that instant..something that had no meaning could be brought to life . All it takes is just one packet of brown sugar.. and you will know how deep my footprints have left themselves when we crossed paths for the very first and last time"
Love, Elicia..
__________________
A secret revealed.
Sy, this is for you. hahas i finally wrote it after much thoughts at the terminal.
Thanks for making my day better. Hope you like this story that i dedicated to you and to all my friends and lovers around me.
小时候，妈妈常说不要吃太多糖。。由此是考试的时候。。因为糖原本就能让一个人失忆。。
i guess thats the reason why i never listened.
lights off
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