I heard something about tentacle monster. I don’t even want to know! Goodness, I don’t know if we’ve been passing through the Outer Reaches, Twilight Zone, X-files, or Dark Skies. I’m sure Yume Nikki never recorded nightmares like we just experienced. It’s surely time for a gentler touch, and what better than a poem from Sayori, the happiness girl.
Perhaps catching up as Act One is all but finished.
Ahahaha, Maybe I should have proofread it first. C’est la vie. Or not.
I pop off my scalp like the lid of a cookie jar. It's the secret place where I keep all my dreams. Little balls of sunshine, all rubbing together like a bundle of kittens. I reach inside with my thumb and forefinger and pluck one out. It's warm and tingly. But there's no time to waste! I put it in a bottle to keep it safe. And I put the bottle on the shelf with all of the other bottles. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts in bottles, all in a row. My collection makes me lots of friends. Each bottle a starlight to make amends. Sometimes my friend feels a certain way. Down comes a bottle to save the day. Night after night, more dreams. Friend after friend, more bottles. Deeper and deeper my fingers go. Like exploring a dark cave, discovering the secrets hiding in the nooks and crannies. Digging and digging. Scraping and scraping. I blow dust off my bottle caps. It doesn't feel like time elapsed. My empty shelf could use some more. My friends look through my locked front door. Finally, all done. I open up, and in come my friends. In they come, in such a hurry. Do they want my bottles that much? I frantically pull them from the shelf, one after the other. Holding them out to each and every friend. Each and every bottle. But every time I let one go, it shatters against the tile between my feet. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts in shards, all over the floor. They were supposed to be for my friends, my friends who aren't smiling. They're all shouting, pleading. Something. But all I hear is echo, echo, echo, echo, echo Inside my head.
. . .
I can’t let my guest appearance end on a somber note.
(Did you know the mc was scared of this one? Actually, the tsundere type is easy to handle, ignore the attitude and the facade crumbles.)
This is a rather nice poem. It reveals the true personality.
(I really do love my friends.)
I’ll Be Your Beach