Forgotten Memory

"You remember the garden when it was in bloom, don’t you?"

"I don’t know how we even got in there. It felt like a secret just for us."

There’s an echo here, the kind you only notice when the world is quiet all around. Every step seems like a dialogue with ghosts, speaking softer and softer until it's just a breeze.

"The flower petals were everywhere, like confetti."

We found the path again, under the old hedges where sunlight flickered through leaves like it was winking at us. You and your wild ideas about discovering something… I don’t know, something magical.

"Are those really your shoes on the wire?" It’s been years but you still hang them up like no one’s business.

And just like that, we both start laughing at the absurdity, at how silly we sound now. But it’s okay to be silly when there’s nothing but us and these memories. Silly and sacred.

Anyway, thanks for listening. Sometimes it's nice to share these whispers, even if they do fade.

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