Memories

 'and in the end, we'll all be memories.'

Zainab read the blurred letters on the crumbling wall as she balanced herself behind Ali, the familiar bumps and cradling of the road passing beneath the wheels of the bicycle they rode on.

"Did you read that?" Zainab called out to Ali. "Read what?" He asked over his shoulder. "What it said on the wall," she responded. "It said what it has always said," he answered, and Zainab could hear the grin in his voice.

She smiled to herself as they sped on. Though they had aged many years by each other's side, their bike rides together always made her feel like the teenagers they had been when they first met, all over again.

He knew she loved the trips, so he would organize one every month, and without telling her the location, he would set off, seating her in the back to enjoy the views.

And they had always passed by the crumbling wall. And he was right, it had always said those words. For Zainab, it was the first time she had time to read them as they rushed passed. But Ali seemed to have read and appreciated the message long before she had.

And it was true. In the end, their whole life, their children, their experiences, their journey together had become memories. And today's journey would be yet another memory to add to the beautiful collection they had created together over the past 40 years.

She smiled and held onto her seat tighter as the wind blew into her face, bringing the scent of the summer breeze and new memories into her face.

Story and illustration by @rasmorawaj ©