By the first anniversary on Word Press, a hundred fifty tow posts and a wonderful one hundred and one followers; continue or disappear? Does it need another though? Another year! Maybe..
Who knows…life is always full of surprises;
regardless of painful tears.
At the age of four, they used to be neighbors. The mothers baked bread for the whole village. And in the carnival, sweets served with tea and juice. Years gone by at the speed of light. They finished high school and joined college in different countries.
Yes, still remembering the good old days when they used to eat fresh hot bread from mother. And still crave for the days when they ride bicycles up the bushy mountain collecting figs and racing turtles. Life was rosy, grass was green, and humming birds sang all night. Now, the hardly see each other. Family responsibilities and distance made it hard to be together.
They met after eight years at the carnival. Sweets and juice were served. However, this time it was imported. Mothers are there no more. Despite death; a reality manifests. Now time to face the truth, imaginary friends; they were…