Memories Letter Novels & Stories

Nakita ko ang pag-tingin niya sa lalaking nasa gitna, hindi na ito tatanggi may pinuntirya na ang kaniyang mga mata. "Alam mo maganda yang naisip mo, anong oras ba?" Buti na lang at natigilan ko ang sarili ko kung hindi kanina pa ako humalakhak dito. Grabe din talaga ang isang ito. "Miss, at the back." Saway saamin ni Miss. Napatungo na lang ako nang ulo at nakinig na lang ng mabuti habang nag-susulat ng notes. Ang dami pa naman. At hindi dapat tatanga-tanga dito lalo na at huling year ko na 'to sa college, sunod mag-ga-graduate na ako!

You wouldn't even let me speak with you if I call Logan ANYA: Cos you don't deserve a second chance RICHARD: Did you read the letter? ANYA: Why would I? RICHARD: Well cos, it wasn't actually a letter (smiles and Anya looked at him) If you checked the envelope, I know you wouldn't be this annoyed cos it was our picture not a letter. You told me you hate letters, so why would I write one? (laughs at his words) ANYA: You ... remembered (looked at him with a soft face) RICHARD: Of course I do. I remember every moment we spent together

The doctor stated confidently. A sentence came into my mind that had me looking up at the doctor with wide eyes. "I know how to open up a door. You have to turn the door handle." I stated confidently. That's why the door handle giggled, it needed to be turned. "It's a door knob sweet heart. Not a handle." My father stated as he pressed his lips together. "Turn the door knob." I whispered as the words just came to me. "I can remember things." I rushed out with a smile. If they told me the words I would remember. They were inside my head. I could only assume it would take time for my memories to come back.

“I didn’t say in that way. Yet I think suffered amnesia. It’s better than suffering from trauma.” “Look, I don’t want you to say like such a fool. Behind the suffering of your trauma, there are still memories of the tip of a thumb that still lingers.” Mom took a deep breath. “You should be grateful that you still have us who love you for who you are.” “Uhm-uhm.” I’m bowing my head now. Mom glanced at Terrence and said that he had just received a letter from the principal of Miracle Academy. Terrence accepted the letter and thanked him. Terrence immediately opened the letter and read the contents carefully. While I could only look down under the sharp glance from Mom.

Dear Leo, It's been seven years since I met you in the parking lot of our high school and now I share your last name. You're at work right now so I'm writing you a letter for old times sake because it's our two year wedding anniversary today and I thought I'd bring back the thing that put us in each other's lives in the first place - letters. This time, I'm not writing to myself but instead to you because you're my rock. The funny thing to me was how I found you when I wasn't even looking.

For a note and a stick? Feeling disappointment take over the excitement, I put the memory stick down on my bed and unfold the single paged letter which I can see starts with "My Dearest Skylar". This had better be good after all that effort. If it's one of Nathan's pranks, he's a dead man.

Mark said pretty much excited and before I could say no, he was out of sight, "Hmm" I sighed softly,I miss her, I missed her so much. If wishes were horses, if only wishes were horses. Hey guysssss!!! Chapter 18 is out! Yes.. I know it took me weeks to update but remember something, I did anyways lol😝😝 I sincerely apologise for the late update,I hope you keep believing in my writing,"Memories" is an amazing story, I hope you stay put in this journey of memories. Thanks y'all for the support and encouragement, thanks so much. Thanks for taking out your to read this story, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Enjoy 😎😎 Don't forget to vote, comment and share. Thanks Xoxo

The destination account was referenced by a code rather than a name, which was unusual enough that Edmund had drawn a line under it in ink. I looked at the code. Below it, in the same ink, Edmund had written two letters. M.H. No full name. No context. No explanation of what the letters referred to or why they'd been significant enough to note. Just the letters, underlined once, the pen pressed slightly harder than the rest of the annotation, as if it was something he wanted to remember. I looked at the date on the memo. Fourteen months before the company collapsed. I looked at the routing code. Then at the shareholder register from the same period. Then at the account summaries.

You were always reaching for something solid, and I was just water—shifting, slipping, drowning everything good in me. I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t even expect you to read this. But I need you to know I remember. Everything. Your laugh. Your eyes. The way you whispered my name like a secret you wanted to keep. I remember you. And I’m sorry for forgetting you when it mattered most. I folded the letter slowly. Pressed it between the pages of my old journal. I didn’t cry. I didn’t rage. I just stared at the words until they stopped meaning anything.

“Today, I remembered the way cinnamon makes me feel. I remembered my mother’s laugh. I remembered how I used to look at the sky and think the stars knew me. But I still don’t remember you. And somehow, that hurts more than anything.” She closed the journal. Then, slowly, carefully, she placed one of the unsigned letters Max had written beside it—the one she’d read more than any other. Back at Carter Industries, Marco slammed a thick folder down on Max’s desk. “You’re not going to like this,” he muttered.