The giant bag.

A Screenplay by Likita

From a 12 year old, she had all her stories. There's a bag. The giant bag. She have put them all together.
If you find that bag somewhere, it would appear some shapes. It has a shape of a place. A place where people are real. No lies and no hypocrisy.
But little she knew, that place was from her reveries. That was not a memory, it were her solicitudes.
Again you would find the shape of a paradise. Can we see that? She had picturised, it's the willingness to stay.
More of a perseverance. Are you doing that? Is it one?
It's a choice. We ain't connected to people's choices, right.
These shapes are a delusion, the bag is a diary. It has scribbled parts of her. Besides halfway through the words it had, it had seen the extremes. The lows and highs.
Though never had it complained that she had shown less of her highs. People do so. They tend to remember the lows better.
Is it a disparagement then? Or a sleigh ride?
Maybe because she aspires the moonlight better.
Moonlight makes her have a view. A view of a lakeside. An old and tattered clock tower. Besides, a bamboo housing. Some grazing cattles. A yard of grey lilies.
Lilies. Are they grey? No wonder her fantasies are rich.
As she sits besides the colonnade preoccupied with her thoughts and subconsciously living them, someone meddled with a coffee mug.
Leaning, she gets the warmth. A smile widespread.
How amazingly she sees the personage of the same lakeside avenue. She just shifts her thoughts, looks at him.
Hello moon princess, were the words from the opposite living.
Dump the giant bag, she has her entire accumulated fantasies to look at in a mortal entity.