The Last Tiny Drop
What is happiness?
Is it an escape from sadness? Or doing something that feels like it matters?
I believe happiness is fleeting.
It doesn’t lay with you in your bed.
It doesn’t hug you.
One minute you’re surrounded by people, by music.
The next you’re crying yourself to sleep.
It almost seems like an illusion. A dream.
If happiness was a pill, I’d drink it every day.
When I wake up.When I’m on the go.
Before I go to bed.
We search for it in people, in places, in hobbies.
But we never truly grasp it.
If I get a hold of happiness, I’d tie her up and never let her go.
First, I would give my mother a share.
So she could dry her eyes and dance to her own singing.
Then my father.
So he could finally retire from all the heart break and disappointment.
My sisters.
So I could hear them laugh and jump around, even if it’s for a second.
My brother.
Because his dimples deserve to be seen.
And finally, I’d give myself the last tiny drop.
So I could dance to my mother’s singing.
Celebrate my father on his winnings.
Jump around with my sister.
Share a smile with my brother.
And if nothing’s left?
Then I’d be an observer.
Because I’d rather they have it all.
"Why is the novel so short?"
it's quite interesting ywar