Echoes & Epilogues
"Since when do you call yourself a writer?" I asked. "Since when do you call yourself a musician?" She replied. "I'm a music enthusiast, not a musician," I replied with a smirk. Her lips curled at one end. It was her signature smile back from days when we were more familiar with each other. She sucked the straw emptying her glass of butter fruit juice in a gulp and still sucked making funny noises. Some things seldom change, I thought. "Some things don't change at all, do they?" She asked as if reading my mind. My surprise must've been visible like the glimmer of sunlight caught in a sliver of a mirror. "What?" she asked, a soft chuckle accompanying her words. She beamed like a fortuneteller after successfully predicting a jackpot in the lottery. "Nothing. I was just thinking the same thing. Somethings don't change at all." I replied somberly. But thinking of it, she had actually changed a lot. No...