Nostalgic November, in 5 sentences
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Day 16: Echoes of laughter
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Splinter had never been one for technology—gadgets and wires and buttons and screens, all the things Donatello mastered so effortlessly, often confused and overwhelmed him. Because of that, he never recorded many of those so-called ‘home videos’ humans seemed to treasure, never had the chance to film the mundane, fleeting moments of his pupils growing up.
He wonders now, that, if he had, would those videos have properly captured their smiles, their voices, just as they used to be? Their loud, shrieking laughs, the echoes of which bounced between walls and left no corner of this lair unlit by their brightness—would the recorder have done the sounds justice?
Splinter stands in the middle of the empty living room, feeling more than seeing the absence of the young lives that used to occupy it, and a twinge of regret pricks at him; too small, too late.
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