Two men stood before me. One was dressed impeccably, in a suit that must have cost a fortune and he was smoking a cigar. The other man was dressed in well worn, humble looking clothes. He had lines on his face, which was tanned from spending so many hours in the sun.
"What do you do?" I asked them both.
The man in the suit smiled. "I work for a firm. I make more money than you could ever imagine. Some of that money I keep and some of it I donate to charity. When I get home I eat dinner by myself, read a book, and then go to sleep."
The other man, the one that was poorly dressed, said, "I'm a farmer. I get up early and I work all day in the fields. By the time I'm finished I'm exhausted but at the end of the day, I sit down to dinner with my wife and family."
"Are you happy?" I asked.
"Yes," they both said.
"Any love that is love is right." -Francesa Lia Block
About Me
- Cam
- I write. I act. I like glitter a little too much and live inside my head. Its pretty there. :)
Monday, June 20, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
A Sort of Magic by Cambria Covell
There once was a boy who had a very gruff father who didn’t believe in nonsense, especially magic. One day when the boy had the nerve to ask why, his father replied sternly, “Look around….there is war, death, famine…the worlds going to the dogs. How can you believe in magic in a place like this?”
The boy thought over his father’s question and he replied, “There is magic in the world. It’s just not what you think. It isn’t so obvious as a dragon or an enchanted mirror. It’s something not everyone has, but those that have it make the world better.”
“What do you mean?” the father asked.
“I mean creativity,” the boy responded, “because you see, story-tellers are in their own way witches and wizards, casting spells over readers or audiences with the right set of words or images. Artists are hypnotists, making things that are too beautiful to look away from. Musicians are sirens, creating music people can’t stop listening to. Actors are shape-shifters changing into people that can either be alive or dead, real or make believe. Creativity is magic father, and as long as we have it the world will be okay.”
His father shook his head and muttered something about “day dreamer” before going off to work and the boy just smiled because he knew he was right. Then he grabbed some pencils and paper from a drawer and went to go make his own sort of magic.
The boy thought over his father’s question and he replied, “There is magic in the world. It’s just not what you think. It isn’t so obvious as a dragon or an enchanted mirror. It’s something not everyone has, but those that have it make the world better.”
“What do you mean?” the father asked.
“I mean creativity,” the boy responded, “because you see, story-tellers are in their own way witches and wizards, casting spells over readers or audiences with the right set of words or images. Artists are hypnotists, making things that are too beautiful to look away from. Musicians are sirens, creating music people can’t stop listening to. Actors are shape-shifters changing into people that can either be alive or dead, real or make believe. Creativity is magic father, and as long as we have it the world will be okay.”
His father shook his head and muttered something about “day dreamer” before going off to work and the boy just smiled because he knew he was right. Then he grabbed some pencils and paper from a drawer and went to go make his own sort of magic.
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