I Navigate the Streets yet Again…

I navigate the streets, yet again. 
In the street sign by the bakery, 
I find the day we lost our way in the city, 
drenched and shivering. 
On the bench beneath the funny lamp post, 
I find the day we paid off our rents late, 
and found in our pockets 
just enough for two hearty sandwiches.
-Maria Dalal

We joked about the little spider, 
webbing it's home through
 the crockery we carried with us. 
While working my way through the sandwich, 
I noticed a coin lying atop a sewer drain. 
This damp city is built on fast food, free Wi-Fi and 
fiercely underpaid artists.

The damp was everywhere. 
The sheets. 
Our books. 
All the socks. 
Algae stained the ceiling in our designated laundry corner. 
The sun peeked through so many times in the day, 
but started to feel like a distant memory 
in the late hours I spent alone in that house. 
Counting our mismatched mugs. 
Shredding the dampened bills piled by our swear jar. 
Killing the spiders. 
-Maria Dalal

When the rains stopped after the kitchen cabinet spider was murdered, the city grew on to me like a wolf child.
The sun kissed my eyelids.
I acclimatised myself to abrupt endings, bakery fresh beginnings, unfinished poetry and sandwiches that were briefly bitten into.

And with the relief of a good cry on my face, 
I can say I've grown to love the dampness.
-Maria Dalal

This tale was knit by mariathelal and parsingthrough. They took turns writing this tale and knit a tale that is very unique.

They took us on a journey of the things we know, yet do not see. It made us pause and appreciate the simple things we often overlook. How something simple like dampness can be appreciated too while it may cause so much trouble otherwise. It shows us that there’s a possibility to not only learn to live with things, but also learn to love them over time.

I navigate the streets yet again, 
I have been away for a long time, 
it feels like forever since I walked these streets 
and now I am happy to be back.
They may seem dangerous,
but to me, these streets embrace me. 
They give me identity, 
as I find joy in being around faces I don't recognise. 

Faces that don't judge me for who I want to be. 
Faces that don't know the real me. 
The real me who is scared to tell the world that 'I exist', 
scared to tell that its not my fault.

This tale knit by acclaim_stories and her_words.and.photos talks about finding your safe space. This talk about finding oneself, being protected in a space and feeling comfortable in it. Anonymity that protects the real person who wants more, who yearns for more. Anonymity helps shield the real person, it lets us be free from limitations placed on us. It lets us be our true selves.
If you could live without the judgements of others and be your true self, what would you do?

I navigate the streets yet again. 
I kept on going back to the place where we had our first kiss. 
Where we promised that we won't say goodbye 
and we will be together till we die.
So, I navigated the streets again, 
looking for you but you where nowhere to be found. 
-H.K.V.D writes

I tell my heart to quiet,
 bumping as loud as it is, 
because I might miss the sound of your voice, 
the whisper of your laugh.
My eyes burn as I try to keep them open, 
not letting myself blink because 
I might miss the sight of you passing me by. 
I tell my feet to keep going and going and 
though I know I won't stop searching, 
a part of me breaks when I don't see you in our corners.
-On a Personal Note

As I heard the sound of a siren, 
everything fell into place. 
The sweat and tears in my eyes kept dripping 
as I stopped from running. 
I fell down on the floor knowing that 
I will never see you anymore. 
-H.K.V.D writes

I looked down at my stinging knees, 
my blurred vision making them nothing but a mesh of flesh. 
Getting up was impossible. 
And I stayed there and hysterically thought 
what would say if you saw me like this. 
-On a Personal Note

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. 
The breeze of the wind turned cold. 
Suddenly I heard a whisper saying that it is going to be okay 
while I felt a hand caressing my face.
All I know is that it is you and 
when I opened my eyes, 
it felt surreal because all that I felt and heard was gone.
You're gone.
-H.K.V.D writes

This tale knit by @h.k.v.d.writes and @onapersonal_note pulls at the heartstrings. They remind us of missed opportunities. It makes us look back at times that were great, yet no longer in our reach. How things may not last forever. How the impact of regret can make you sink to your knees.
Reminiscence and regret are like two ends of a pole, yet the writers of this tale have brought both these things together beautifully..

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