Basket.

Can you imagine only now getting the photographs that were taken at your Secondary 4 graduation ceremony? Because that is what happened to me this weekend. Two-and-a-half years after the event, my brother (the photographer then) apparently discovered them in some obscure corner of his hard disk, and dispatched them to me.

It is a little eerie to look at the pictures. Two-and-a-half years may not be in absolutes a very long time in the big scheme of things, but with how much can change within such a period of time, events of two-and-a-half years ago might as well be events from a past life. Everyone displayed in the photographs have changed, some in mere external appearance, others in a lot more ways than just that. I read the ending of this particular story a lifetime after I read the rest of it. It gave me a sense of closure, accompanied by the poignancy that always comes with endings - although I closed the book a long time ago.

Books. Stories. We all love a good story. Most of the time, when people converse, they are actually exchanging whole strings of stories with each other. Ever noticed that? And we all enjoy it so much, especially if it is a story that involves real, live characters - people we know and are close to.

I wonder at this human love for stories. Is it hardcoded in us? Perhaps it is because our whole lives are basically episode after episode of many and varied experiences - a collection of stories. Whenever we share our experiences, or share others experiences, we are storytellers. Everyone has a thousand tales to tell and at least one perfect for any given occasion. Some remain untold forever. Others are told whether the characters like it or not. Whatever the case, I suppose nobody is actually a "boring person" - they all have tales to be told about them.

This is a world of stories, hopes and dreams. We hear so many and tell even more. Sadly, there isn't always a "happily ever after". But if you ask me, any resolution is better than none at all.