Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • The reason for that fight, I do not remember. Which means it was quite pointless. Or silly. Or both.

    But the fight inflamed before either of us could think about it. And before I could bring back my own sanity, I'd taken the notepad off the wall. And a moment later, it was in tatters on the floor.

    It was something we bought together; to write sweet nothings. Every leaf of it was supposed to be a moment that we could go back to.

    And today she is no longer with me. And the notepad is held together by a cheap rubber band. I decide it is time I restored some of its worth.

    I stick it together. Leaf by leaf. And soon, it is back up on the wall. It is still badly put together. The edges jagged. No. It is no longer the same. Like nothing is, after a bad past.

    Bitter pasts are occasionally resolved. Never restored.

    I take the notepad back off the wall.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.