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It wasn't just a sound; it was a map, leading to a world I thought we would build - a world where her laugh would echo down the corridors of our home. spilling into the rooms where children would learn the magic of their mother's joy Her laughter - was color and warmth to the walls of gray stone. A pebble skipping over still waters, shaking the silence of my life before her. But it's gone now, its music quieted. I still wait to hear it - its rise, its ripple, its reverberation the careless abandon that made me believe tomorrow could be beautiful. I live now among echoes, pieces of her joy caught between corners of old conversation. I would give anything to hear it again, to let it anchor me But laughter, like love, cannot be held in place. It flutters away as quickly as it came and I sit in its absence holding onto the memory of a giggle
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Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 10:41 PM UTC
The Memory of a Giggle
It wasn't just a sound; it was a map, leading to a world I thought we would build - a world where her laugh would echo down the corridors of our home. spilling into the rooms where children would learn the magic of their mother's joy Her laughter - was color and warmth to the walls of gray stone. A pebble skipping over still waters, shaking the silence of my life before her. But it's gone now, its music quieted. I still wait to hear it - its rise, its ripple, its reverberation the careless abandon that made me believe tomorrow could be beautiful. I live now among echoes, pieces of her joy caught between corners of old conversation. I would give anything to hear it again, to let it anchor me But laughter, like love, cannot be held in place. It flutters away as quickly as it came and I sit in its absence holding onto the memory of a giggle
Written by
23/M/Sudbury, Ontario
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 10:41 PM UTC
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