From @swordfish19: When the kids entered the living room in their pajamas, all bleary, they saw the boxes of various colours and sizes, all neatly wrapped, near the tree. As was their wont they expressed surprise and screamed “Look! Gifts from Santa!” Even though they knew that the gifts were really their parents’. The drill was necessary.
From @deescjockey: She was a neat packer. Bedsheets went into one box, crockery into another, books in yet another... till all her stuff disappeared into those boxes. She was careful not to touch his things. She would end this in her usual clean and dignified way; the time for emotions would come later.
From @wistyloony: Her life arrived. In colour coded boxes. She never knew the pains of moving before. She started unpacking them. The brown boxes mocked the emptiness of the house. Her life reduced to a few boxes, full of materials & memories. She wept.
From @flirtingshadows: Her heart was a neatly pieced jigsaw puzzle. Intact as long as it remained untouched. But one careless touch and it all came apart. They’d be tears, much unparliamentary language, an outpouring of anger and resentment. Until she took a day or two to recuperate and place her feelings in those tiny little boxes again.
From @vivekisms: The boxes were ready to be sent. Someone else's now. All of them. Thousands of them. He had cherished them forever and now others would. He hoped they would. He started labelling the last of them. "Young Adult Fiction", he wrote. The library car had arrived. The boxes were ready to be sent.
From @iyer_raman:
The girl in a saree and sleeveless blouse made bags drop, and wives, jealous.
A sitar-tabla jugalbandi played in his head.
He took out a 100. The kid smiled, and ran into the gaming zone.
He took out a card. The wife smiled, and ran into The Body Shop.
Both the boxes had been ticked.
From @aaroo4: “It is your turn… Go on, play, the clock is ticking away”, he urged her. “But I don’t have any interesting letters. How boring”, she whined. “C’mon, give it a shot” he grinned. “Got it” she yelped as she placed XES next to the BOX he’d made earlier -“BOXES”. Now it was his turn to stare...
From @namansaraiya: He saw her face amidst black t-shirts singing along with the angry band. Her eyes smiled back at him. Let go of him, he shouted across the room. I will, but I don't know if I can come back. Why? Just that I'm so used to living out of boxes.
From @alksmehta: Raju,Mr.gupta's servant,would invariably see Mr.gupta alone in a room with some boxes.The lust for money lured Raju to kill Mr.gupta.To his shock Raju found nothing but memorabilia and memoirs of his wife which he had collected over the years.Now he understood that Mr.Gupta spent time with the memories of his dead wife!
From @alwaystranquil: He kept them all. Visited them all the time. Not a speck of dust could ever settle. Took them everywhere he went. They were his treasure. His true worth. Acquired over years. Each, with a story. Lived them, smile and tears.
I walked in. An empty room ?? Boxes were clumsy!! His answer. Memories.
From @Itemboi: My ex told me that you know a person is the right one for you when he/she fits in the following boxes - Emotional attachment, physical attraction, sexual compatibility, education, financial independence and no issues with family. I looked out of the box and found the right one. I'm happy. The ex is still searching.
From @absoluteme: Strike it for fire Share it for shelter All those sweets lined for celebration And that Jack stuffed inside to scare A space for work; and self doubt A pit for made-up games, and new found friends Open up to laughters Settle in for final rest A box inside a box inside a box… Life!
From @CruciFire:
Pain. Happiness. Guilt. Empathy. Greed. Kindness. Love. Lust. Calm. Wrath.
Neatly labeled boxes lined the front of his store.
He was the only vendor of his kind.
Every day he would set up shop for a couple of hours.
“Hi, my name is Time, what would YOU like to buy today dear Sir?”
From @Greyllusionist: boxes, n.(pl): Was tiding up my home today after long. Found few memories neatly packed, at a corner. Where do I keep them now?
From @alksmehta: Raju,Mr.gupta's servant,would invariably see Mr.gupta alone in a room with some boxes.The lust for money lured Raju to kill Mr.gupta.To his shock Raju found nothing but memorabilia and memoirs of his wife which he had collected over the years.Now he understood that Mr.Gupta spent time with the memories of his dead wife!
From @alwaystranquil: He kept them all. Visited them all the time. Not a speck of dust could ever settle. Took them everywhere he went. They were his treasure. His true worth. Acquired over years. Each, with a story. Lived them, smile and tears.
I walked in. An empty room ?? Boxes were clumsy!! His answer. Memories.
From @Itemboi: My ex told me that you know a person is the right one for you when he/she fits in the following boxes - Emotional attachment, physical attraction, sexual compatibility, education, financial independence and no issues with family. I looked out of the box and found the right one. I'm happy. The ex is still searching.
From @absoluteme: Strike it for fire Share it for shelter All those sweets lined for celebration And that Jack stuffed inside to scare A space for work; and self doubt A pit for made-up games, and new found friends Open up to laughters Settle in for final rest A box inside a box inside a box… Life!
From @CruciFire:
Pain. Happiness. Guilt. Empathy. Greed. Kindness. Love. Lust. Calm. Wrath.
Neatly labeled boxes lined the front of his store.
He was the only vendor of his kind.
Every day he would set up shop for a couple of hours.
“Hi, my name is Time, what would YOU like to buy today dear Sir?”
From @Greyllusionist: boxes, n.(pl): Was tiding up my home today after long. Found few memories neatly packed, at a corner. Where do I keep them now?
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