the thingamajigg toyshop

shop 3

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It came in the night, without warning. A vacant space one day, and a fully-furnished toy shop, the next. No advertisements beforehand, no posters to herald its arrival.

The Thingamajigg Toyshop, it was called, a fitting name for a such a curious-looking shop. It had a bright and playful, yet mysterious air about it, a great contrast from its dull, dingy city surroundings. It was a peculiar place, one which no one had ever seen the likes of. What marvellous toys it sold, for sure! Capes that allowed their wearers to fly, playing cards that disappeared and appeared with the slightest flick of a finger, multicolored paints that allowed its user to camouflage…all manner of eccentricities that sent the children into the wildest frenzy.

The shopkeeper was an elderly woman who spoke none, and only nodded and smiled, baring her toothless pink gums in all their glory, at customers. She was quite plump and rosy-cheeked, her grey hair was always knotted into a neat bun, thin, white strands falling about her kindly face. Her wrinkled hands tended to shake unsteadily while holding something. Fine embroidery and intricate gearwork was surely no work for the trembly limbs of an old woman. It was clear that she could not be the one behind the wondrous, though very odd, toys.

The toys were replenished each night. Every evening, the shop would be wiped clean-out (people never tired of them), and filled to the brim with fresh stock in the morning.

Who the creator of these fantastical objects? Everyone wanted to know. And how ever did he make them? They defied every scientific law thought up by the cleverest people of that time. Some said it was the work of the Devil. Others said, a magician? Could he be both? Was he either?

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DISCLAIMER: this was very much unedited, and may will contain many (hopefully not fully cringe-worthy) mistakes. i just thought this would be an interesting thing to write, and so i did. i apologize for any unpalatable word-blunders in there.

otherwise, i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did, writing it!

of roses and sorrow

roses

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she sang a song of roses
with thorns to cut your feet
harmless-looking waiters
who serve you poisoned meat

she told a tale of anguish
of agony, misery, and pain
a glinting knife, they brandished
and with it, had her slain

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gee, i’m so morbid. evidently, that results from reading too much depressing poetry, however beautifully-worded they may be.

everything has changed

friends

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all i know since yesterday, is everything has changed. —taylor swift

“bye. see you, um, soon?” i coughed, lifting a hand to signal an awkward goodbye.

“yeah, sure,” you smiled back. there was a palpable tension stretched between us, and you felt it too, i was sure. but neither of us acknowledged it. not knowing what else to do, i flashed a quick grin at you, and turned to go on my own way. a few seconds later, i looked back. you were gone.

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do you remember the time when we called each other best friends? i do. remember how we would text each other the most ridiculous things, talk for hours over the phone, have long discussions over everything and anything we felt like telling each other?

no matter how much we fought, however bad our arguments got, we always made up, and promised that we would stay best friends forever. i still have those cards you made me when i was sick in bed, those childishly-scrawled notes we snuck to and fro under the table during lessons? do you even remember them?

it’s not like we got into a fight or something. so how did we just…stop? i remember when people warned us that being too close would ruin our friendship. we vowed that wouldn’t ever happen to us. but guess what? it did.

the funny thing is, no one’s even surprised by this. am i the only one who is? i miss everything we had about our friendship. our sleepovers, playtimes, secret-sharing sessions…we spent so much time together that people thought we were really siblings.
i never felt the need to feel embarrassed or shy around you. how could i? we were practically of the same mind. and now? we don’t talk much anymore. and when we do, it feels weird. we’re like newly-met people who don’t have enough of that connection to be anything more than acquaintances. so much changed between us. i miss you, best friend. i miss us. has everything really changed for good?

“i just wanted to say…”

suitcase

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i just wanted to say—

that i loved you. more than anyone, anything.

i just wanted to say—

that i hurt too. i’m not really as cold as everyone thinks.

i just wanted to say—

that i’m sorry. for all the trouble i caused you.

i just wanted to say—

that you deserve being without me. we just aren’t meant to be. 

i just wanted to say—

that i’ll always remember you, my first love.

i just wanted to say—

that i’ve never hated you. i couldn’t hate you, and believe me, i’ve tried.

i just wanted to say—

that i won’t ever come back.

i just wanted to say—

that you should just forget i ever existed, and go on with your life.

i just wanted to say—

goodbye.

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aren’t most true love stories the same? just a thought. i’ve always wondered why love stories had to have a sad element. but perhaps that’s what makes them beautiful.