A Little Chat Between Happiness and Sadness

The Emotion Express.

The Emotion Express.

It was half past midnight and the Emotion Express was crossing a vast valley under the velvet sky.

Everybody was supposed to be snoozing, but it seemed that Sleep was exercising his favoritism. Pride was snoring so loud, his arms were even extending to his seat mate, Anger, who was struggling so hard not to push him over from his chair. On the seat in front of Pride and Anger, there was Envy, who was admiring Pride’s sound sleep, wishing she could doze off too. Amazement, who was seated next to Envy, was also awake, and was so surprised on how loud Pride’s snoring could be.

Next to Envy were Happiness and Sadness, who were also wide awake. Happiness was reading a book, with a soft smile on his face. Sadness, on the other hand, was twitching her pencil on her hand, as she was staring blankly on her small notebook.

Suddenly, the pencil jumped from Sadness’ hand. Happiness got it for her. “Can’t find sleep too?”, asked Happiness.

“Who can find him with that?”, Sadness answered as she pointed to Pride on the other side of the train. Happiness gave out a soft laugh.

“Where are you headed?”, Happiness asked again.

“Well, my former owner just died so I’m heading for the Emotion Recycling and Segregating Department,” answered Sadness, after a deep sigh.


This post had been transferred by the author to another blog named “Nimotsu Counter.” To know what happened to the conversation between Happiness and Sadness, kindly click here.

 

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Such an inspiring message

A freelance life, a life in the arts, is sometimes like putting messages in bottles, on a desert island, and hoping that someone will find one of your bottles and open it and read it, and put something in a bottle that will wash its way back to you: appreciation, or a commission, or money, or love. And you have to accept that you may put out a hundred things for every bottle that winds up coming back.” –

Neil Gaiman

http://www.comicbookscriptarchive.com/archive/panel-1/neil-gaiman-commencement-address/

So here I am, putting those “hundred things” for a bottle I am so thankful to receive.  It is a bottle that offered me something I want to do, something my heart is longing to do and something my heart is free to do.

I am getting used to this freelance life, and I think I am loving it.  And isn’t that the point?


Day 8 of the 365 Challenge

CALOY, THE INFAMOUS MASTER OF AN INFAMOUS ART

The sun was up.  The sand was warm.  The water was excited to hit the shore.

A hammock was swaying in between two coconut trees.  It carried in it five children, laughing loudly as the cool breeze hit their faces.  Another four were standing near the tree, shouting to have their turn on the hammock.  And Caloy was one of them.

The screaming and begging of the kids were halted when Auntie Beth called for lunch.  The boy next to Caloy said, “Let’s race to the picnic table!”  And off the children went, but not Caloy. Once the hammock was vacated, he saw this as an opportunity to ride in the hammock, solo.  But as soon as he sat in it, the rope connecting it to the trees snapped and he fell to the ground.  Auntie Beth saw this.  But instead of helping him stand up, she said angrily, “Is that how an honor student acts?! You know that five had already been on it and you know that the rope is not strong enough.  But still you sat on it.  Didn’t you realize that? Look what happened to you!  You are an honor student, you should have known better!  And… didn’t I tell you to come and eat?”


This post had been transferred by the author to another blog named “Nimotsu Counter.” To continue reading about Caloy, kindly click here.