Writing Prompt: Invention that bottled up a memory
If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”
What memory would you bottle up?
How often would you open it?
Describe the memory and the moment of uncorking in vivid detail..
The birthday of my son a couple of years prior was an ordeal that I might never want to overlook. He was the principal offspring of in us siblings and sisters, and a flawless one. His introduction to the world was most extreme euphoria and bliss for all the family.
Since he was the first newborn in our small family, we were exceptionally enthusiasm to see him. The reckoning turned out to be more by the way that there were children in our neighborhood. When we used to see those stunning infant kids who looked like blessed messengers, we would honestly request that Allah give us a child moreover. At last the day arrived when we heard that our sister had been admitted to the healing center. Since I had no clue what it was about, accordingly I thought something awful had happened. In any case, seeing mother and father’s joy, I got to be glad as well. We needed to go to healing facility yet our guardians requesting that we be persistent.
Following day, I got a call from mother who was exceptionally energized. She reported the introduction of my nephew and let me know that Allah has at long last listened to your petitions to God and has given us a charming little infant. I recollect that we as a whole were so energized and over the moon. Father touched base from his office and took all of us to the healing center. Before that, however, our neighbors sought congrats. That is the standard in our nation.
Close to the room where my sister was conceded, we heard the delicate cries of an infant. When I entered, I saw the infant, something that I will always remember. There he was, in my mother’s hands. It was a little being, a holy messenger wrapped in white fabric, lying tranquilly without a consideration on the planet. I overlooked everything except for him, even my sister who was grinning at me on her bed. I took it from my mother’s hands, who requesting that I be extremely watchful. He was so light, however sparkling like a star. His eyes were shut as though he was contemplating the new place in which he arrived. I kissed his temple and it was sweet to the point that I can’t tell. This excellent thing was in my grasp, and I would not like to give up. In any case, the time had come to hand it over to different kin, who were as enthusiastic to touch him as i. I now swung to his mother, my sister, who requesting that I draw close and sit with her.
I will never, ever overlook that minute. I wish I could have placed it in a container to open and experience it over and over.
