Bottled Stories

I have so many stories jammed up in my head like the wooden cork stuck to neck of wine bottle, waiting to be pulled out and let the crystal sparkling wine fall graciously to bottom of that shining glass. I am sure, I will feel the same feeling of that bottled wine opened, not worrying about being broken  anymore; once those stories are told, I will have nothing to hide, every words unspoken will be said and heard.

Mmm… just like the sweet strong aroma that gently hits your nostrils when you first drive off that jammed cork out of the bottle, ditto! the warm memories grab my heart just at the centre when I run down the memory lane to collect those stories of my past.(Well, some not only grab but even tries crushing it ).I remember myself trying to taste only the sweetness of the wine and not think about the bitterness that comes along; because I love wine, I embrace how it really tastes,be it bitter or sweet. I guess that is why I remember all the tragic minutes just as much I memorize every beautiful seconds of my stories; afterall they are all fractions of my whole story and makes it all complete.In those stories, I see my whole life sparkling  just like that wine in tall clear glass with shiny edges!


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