Weak Memories fade away easily..
Vague is the memory of my maid's grand daughter , who was an year older to me..
Strong is the memory of the jealousy i had for her..
A broken slate with a triangular hole and a wooden frame made her happy and content ..
A new one and lots of colored chalk never even got me anywhere nearer..
I used to cry in silence with my box of chocolates
And all she had to offer me was a handful of Pebbles for they were precious to me than my chocolates..
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