Reminisce Book Novels & Stories

Cause once you did those things that prohibits you to do at the young age you'll reminisce every inappropriate action you did when you turned adult. You can't forget the past.

**** ~ Flashback ~ Before heading to the library, Evelina and Rissa are on their way to the opposite end of the class to the library. Evelina walks and she stops from her path, she just remembers that there was something she forgot. Seeing Evelina's reaction stop, Rissa asks her. "Eve, what's wrong? Is there anything you left in the classroom?" "No, I forgot something. That actually, I wanted to return the book in the library," she replied.

Kenji added as he squeezed Dmitri's shoulder as they went into their respective cars after a lovely picnic. For Dmitri, it was not about forgetting. When someone we love separates, at first we think about them all of the time. Our memories are like a book that we take down off the shelf and go over everyday. The book makes us cry as we constantly read it and focus on it. Over time, we put that book on a higher and higher shelf and take it down less and less frequently because now we're living our life and looking at other books. It's not that we have forgotten that book. We still love it and we do look over it from time to time but it's not as often. Now we look at it with nostalgia instead

She had made her choice, and she would not dwell on things that could not be changed. On a quiet afternoon, Lyra found herself in the heart of an ancient library—a place she had visited many times before in her quests for forgotten memories. The library was vast, its shelves filled with scrolls and tomes that stretched back through the ages, documenting the lives, histories, and memories of countless souls. Dust hung in the air, illuminated by shafts of light that filtered through the tall windows. It was a place of peace, a sanctuary for those seeking knowledge.

[Apple] Carefully removing the items from their hiding spot, my fingers touch the leather spine of my mother's book, a book that I've never seen before but seems more familiar than the back of my hand. My mind is a confusion of memories that seem like someone else's dreams, moments long forgotten and trapped deep within. Finding this book and mirror, feeling their weight in my hands, is a key unlocking a door in my mind behind which a wealth of memories have been stored. Memories of my mother and I.

And so many pictures of me curled up beside Rita, fast asleep with a book on my lap or my head buried in her side. The tears came gradually. Not the sharp, soul-wrecking kind. These were softer. Sad and sweet and grateful. “Do you remember any of it?” Rita asked me quietly, brushing my hair behind my ear. “Bits and pieces,” I murmured, my thumb running over a picture of my younger self in a princess costume. “But now that I see them… I feel them. It’s like my body remembers more than my brain does.” David knelt beside me and pulled a smaller album from the cabinet drawer. This one was thinner, newer.

I ate, slept, and lived alone, not thinking of her once. That convinced me that I was over it until insomnia hit me, relentless and unforgiving. Sleep evaded me night after night. I turned to pills, hoarding them until one desperate evening, I downed the entire bottle with a chaser of whiskey. There was no sharp pain, just a numb emptiness, like life had lost all meaning. As my consciousness faded, I dreamed of her for the first time since she'd left. It was snowing, the cold biting deep. Nora appeared as her 17-year-old self, draping a red jacket over my shoulders. "How are you still such a mess at your age? Take care of yourself."

Apparently… Louis hadn’t. “You remembered.” The words escaped before I could stop them. He nodded once. “You said you wanted it.” I stared at the book. A strange ache spread through my chest.Not because of the gift itself. But because it reminded me of the woman I had been back then. The woman who had waited endlessly for small gestures. Who had convinced herself that being remembered was enough. I slowly closed the wrapping around the book again. “Thank you.” I meant it. His expression softened. “But…”

Third-Person POV It hadn't even crossed Bridget's mind that she could have just bought something else. She was just too lazy to think of it. Sarah had to go back to work, and Bridget was politely asked to leave. It was still pouring outside, even harder than before, and it blurred Bridget's vision. She recalled the photos that she and Aiden had taken together in their graduation gowns that Aiden still used as his phone screen wallpaper. She suddenly remembered about the graduation gowns.

sagot naman ni Carla sakaniya. “You mean.. may chance na maalala mo yung dati mong buhay diba?” “Oo. Yun na nga yun. Madalas ginagawa yun para mas maunawaan mo yung sarili mo. For example.. si Lawrence may kakaiba siyang obsession sa mga tanke. Tapos nag-past life regression siya at dun niya nalaman na dati pala siyang sundalo kaya pala niya gusto ang mga tanke. Na-gets mo ba? Dahil dun matutulungan nila tayong intindihin yung mga weird habits natin na kahit tayo rin mismo eh walang kaalam-alam kung saan ba talaga nagsimula.” paliwanag pa niya.