The Miserable Book Of Feeble Stories

Do you feel like the human lives are miserable? I don't. I think human lives are the kindness of this world. The hatred. Human lives are what the world is built upon. These are stories about the world that might be true, in more than one way. "The miserable book" is a collection of stories that I've written together with my friends. Feel free to comment any ideas, and I will try to change it into a story.

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1. The Telling Of A Christmas Night

The telling of a Christmas night

When Christmas comes, I like exploring the city. I like listening to all the wishes people give. I like the decorations. I like the light. I like the mood. What’s not to like about Christmas? It’s a day where the family is together. A day where gifts are given and accepted. It’s a day that brings more happiness than any other day. 

And yet,

Some people think of Christmas like this; it’s the time for broken hearts, a time where you loose all your money on gifts and a time where kid’s dreams are crushed. For me, it’s time to watch other people’s happiness, while I can only wish for it myself. It’s not like I’m all depressed or something. I like being on the street and watch other people get happy. But sometimes, I just wish that I were one of those kids, who would receive at least one present. I would wish that I were one of those kids who have a family, and could get to eat themselves full. I would wish that I could be one of those kids with happiness.

 

As I sat on the street, watching families go by, the darkness eventually fell upon the city. I was on the verge of starvation. I closed my eyes, and thought to myself: I wonder if today is going to be the end of me. I felt a hand on my cheek. I slowly forced my eyes open. A little girl, about my age, was sitting in front of me. She looked pretty rich and was really beautiful. Not knowing her intention, I used my last sip of strength and smiled up at her and wished her a merry Christmas. She didn’t take away her hand. Rather, she did something really unexpected. She took of her hat, scarf and socks, and helped me get them on. Speechless, I sat there and watched her, not knowing what to say. She even gave me freshly baked bread. There were about 5 of them. It looked like they were really expensive. She took my hand and smiled while saying “Merry Christmas” and ran of while waving. I sat with tears running down my cheeks, and almost hugged the fluffy and warm scarf.

 

This year, I was one of the lucky happy children.

 

Together, we make a difference

 

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