She looked at him not knowing what to say or do. The dawn was even but time was running out. What’s a girl got to do?
“How are you?”
“What are you doing?”
“Are you OK?”
Her mind was restless, has been restless, as far as she can remember. Work got too challenging, too boring, too hectic, too okay, and the cycle went on and on. But she enjoys every bit of it. The doors got smaller and the windows flew bigger than the house could ever imagine. Once, he knocked. Then twice. No answer. She opened her eyes and saw there was light, darkness, seeping through.
Then she retired.
“Where were you?”
Tough question. All the time. Her day, always a race, always flew faster than time. Meals and sleep were short, small talk was nil, and tasks were always of the essence. The small window was kept for friends. The smaller window was kept for self. Her happiness completed the whole picture.
No one in the whole world can ever dictate what will and can make, and makes us happy. The secret to happiness does not exist—it lies within.