I'm posting two posts on the same day! Yey me. HAHA.
Apparently, based on the Gregorian calendar and my birth certificate, I'm officially 29 years old today, another year close to the 30!
I'm totally grateful that I am given the chance to live until this very moment, with so many precious lessons of life, moments to celebrate, and future to imagine and think of. I hope I can be a more mature person, as a daughter, friend, and colleague. I still have a lot of improvements to do (EHEMprocrastinationEHEM).
Thank you for all the birthday wishes from my dearest people. Also for the presents (and food!) I have received during the special-quarantined-birthday. Really appreciate them!
So, what I'm going to write on this post is a very short drabble. It should be a story but I'm not sure if I can call it a story if it's not long enough.
And since it's pretty random.
This writing is inspired by one of my favorite songs. The title is "約束" which means "Promise" in Japanese. The singer is リリィ、さよなら (lily, sayonara).
I hope you enjoy the song and my (random) writing. I actually have another drabble inspired by the same song but I haven't finished it. Perhaps I'll post it some other time, no?
Have a good day, people. :)
Promise
"Hello."
He looked up from the book he's been holding on for an hour. His eyes met with hers for a second before she greeted him again, still smiling politely, "Hi there, Sir. We will arrive at our final stop in three minutes."
Returning his gaze to the book, he flipped the page as if he did not listen the personal announcement given by the girl. She heaved a sigh but stayed still, waiting for a response from the only passenger in the train.
"I have noticed you for a couple of times, Sir," she decided to open up a quick conversation, knowing that the train would stop soon. "Always the same time. Always day 29 of every month."
Silence.
"I'm sure it's a special day for you," she intertwined her fingers together, feeling that the train was slowing down its speed. "Have you not found what you want to see there?"
Still no answer.
The train finally stopped, reaching the final destination of their trip.
He closed his book and stood up, walking pass her without a single word. Being a professional, she bowed to him, "Thank you for using our service. We will be looking forward to see you on the Dream Train again, Sir."
This time, he stopped on his feet but did not turn around to face her. He put the book on an empty chair, taking a good look of it before walking out from the train. She gasped in surprise, approaching the book quickly to check what he just put there.
It's not a novel. It's a notebook. There was nothing written on the cover.
She opened it to read the first page.
"There is a meeting, so there is a farewell."
The girl blinked, somewhat surprised to see such a neat handwriting. She assumed that it's written by a woman. She went to the next page and found the same handwriting.
"Day 1. If there is one more chance, I will not lose you again."
"Day 2. Even though you are never good with words, I still love you. So don't ever change.
"Day 3. Even if we meet again in the next life, I'll smile to you again first."
At first, she felt like she should not be reading this as the notebook seemed like a personal belonging from someone dearest to the passenger. However, as she continued reading each page, she felt a familiar feelings.
"Day 27. When I look back, there is always you."
"Day 28. If we are reborn, I will look for you."
A tear rolled down on her cheek.
"Why...," she sobbed, biting her lip to stop more tears to come. "Why am I crying?"
Clenching her right fist for a moment, she flipped to the next page and also the last page where she could find the same handwriting.
"Day 29. I know you will always be you, the one whom I love."
On that page, she found the writer's name.
She closed the book, crying her heart out. She put her right hand on chest as if someone just stabbed her chest with an imaginary knife. Her name tag fell on the train floor as she clutched her shirt stronger.
On that silver name tag, her name was engraved there.
Giselle.
The same name that was written on the last page.
- end
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