Dear reader,
whoever you are.
Wherever you're from.
Whatever you do.
However do you look.
I don't know why you even thought of reading this.
You probably should've kept scrolling and ignored my shitty post.
Whether we've met before or not, whether we're known or strangers, I know, for a fact, that your soul is a reflection of my own.
We all are, really, the reflections of each other.
With smiles on our faces,
cracks in our hearts,
doubts in our minds,
hopes in our eyes,
and a small, tiny voice in the back of our heads.
The same voice which is reading this right now.
Interesting, isn't it?
The same small voice who claps it's hands and dances in your victory.
The same one who sobs at your grief as well.
It's the same one who debates against which cereal to purchase while you stand in the middle of a general store.
It's the voice which makes you, you.
So tell me, is it what we call the inner voice or is it just another illusion, trying to fool us around like everyone else does?
YOU ARE READING
The Untold Stories.
Short Story// The Untold Stories. \\ " We're about the books we read, and the poems we love." - Kritika Banerjee. A collection of paragraphs, nanotales, poetry and thoughts from my journey. Highest Rank - #78 in short stories on 29/6/17 ...
