Happiness

Happiness

A Story by Prokhor Ozornin

Once upon a time, someone knocked at a door of human's Soul. The Happiness was standing behind a threshold, having come from unknown edges of the world. A true Happiness always comes unexpectedly.

“And who might you be?” the surprised man asked it, for he has been living alone with Sadness for a long time.

“I am your most real, long-awaited Happiness!” it said with a joy.

“You lie!” grinned the man. “This world has no happiness to be found!”

“But I am already standing here, don't I?” the Happiness was surprised. “How can't I exist if I have finally found you as well?”

“No, you cannot be my long-awaited Happiness,” the man began to doubt. “My Happiness should look and feel differently, I feel it.”

“I am just tired from a long journey to you,” the Happiness smiled in reply. “I have been searching for you in these swamps of Grief and steppes of Loneliness for so long! Allow me now to enter a home of your soul - and I shall help you bring it to an order.”

I already have all things in full order, just like everyone else,” the man frowned.

“That's why you look so sad?” asked the Happiness.

“I am just normal,” replied the man. “Not like some others.”

“Like who?” questioned the Happiness. “Ah, you were speaking of those ones whom I have already managed to find?” it guessed.

“They are cranky!” sniffed the man. “And you are crazy as well!” he became angry.

“But I am your dear Happiness!” and the Happiness beggarly gave hands to the man.

“Leave me be!” snapped he and pushed the Happiness sideways. “I no longer believe in you!”

“...All right,” answered the Happiness, “I will do as you ask of me. But maybe even the memory of my short intervention will manage to warm you in upcoming cold nights of Sadness...”

And, having that said, the Happiness turned back and walked away through the doors. The man sniffed once again and, continuing grumbling something about totally ridiculous and untimely guests, went back to his sleeping rooms.

And the Happiness, who has made such a long and dangerous journey, sat down on a porch of a home of human's soul and, having become silent, started to wait patiently without drawing too much attention. It hoped so much that the man will once start believing in his own Happiness.

17.04.2014

© 2018 Prokhor Ozornin


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Added on August 21, 2017
Last Updated on November 5, 2018

Author

Prokhor Ozornin
Prokhor Ozornin

Russia



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Matters not whether I tell or write – my thoughts will pursue me.If these thoughts are useful to someone – they will become my wings. more..

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