I have lost count of the number of captions that I have read that goes – This could have been us, just saying.
I always laugh out loud whenever I see it.
This would never be us because no one shares my ice cream, ever.
Guess, this is the reason why, there is never us in the first place.
That day a small piece of feather fluttered into my room.
Warm and fluffy.
The skies dark and gloomy, a stark contrast with the pure white feather. It was like what was left of a little ray of sunshine in my room.
I wonder if the birdie which dropped this piece of feather found a safe place to hide from the impending storm.
You know, when things got bad, we tend to cling on to shreds of things that we deemed as good, and tried very hard not to let go.
Little did we realize that it is really not letting go that is really hurting us.
Hiam 