The Fifty: Remember

I remember.

Minty and lemony breath and whiff of faint vanilla every time you pass by. The way your index finger unconsciously write some letters on your cheek when you’re in a deep thought. A smirk and the adorable rise of your right brow.

I remember. For the last time.

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This post is inspired by a writing challenge, which asks you to write a story with one condition: there should be only–no more and no less than–fifty words. Such limitation, isn’t it? I don’t know if it is of any difference than a twit. Maybe this boundary will suit poem better.

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