Walking through a bookstore, picking random books. A page here, a line there, an entire chapter elsewhere. Fragmented scenes. Shattered stories. Broken plots. Kaliedoscopic melange.
A jigsaw with a million pieces. Impossible to see what it makes. But a sense of expectation, the fun of finding out.
One day, I feel, it's all going to fit together. Somehow, someway, impossibly... it's all going to fit. It's all going to make sense.
These days. These hours. These minutes.
Sometime, they'll fit together, too.
Will it ever?? Sigh.
ReplyDeleteBips