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The mysterious ways of life...


Submitted:Sep 24, 2011    Reads: 10    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


There is no guide to life. These were the words Eden was told since she could remember. Life was everything but Heaven. She knew she didn´t experience the worst, but experiencing bad was bad enough. She had lost her Father to the civil war, her mother to depression and now her sister to the flew. It was her against the world and the words on her sisters grave. There is no guide to life.

Wherever Hugh went there were Models. New York was full of them, surprisingly they annoyed him. Not because he couldn´t get them, on the contrary he could easily make them fall to his feet. No it was different, they scared him. Not because they were scary but because they were everywhere. Hugh was succesfull, rich, had a perfect family and he hated his life.

And because models seemed so illegitimately perfect he hated them aswell. Hugh allways said to his co-workers: Imperfection is what makes us human, it´s what makes our lives perfect. And they kept nodding and smiling but everytime he could see behind they´re eyes that they were sobbing. To them his life was anything but imperfect and he seemed happy.

Tiffany hated smoking more than anything in the world. She wasn´t an optimist, she liked to call herself a realist but in reality she was a pessimist. Maybe that was the reason she was smoking a cigarrette in front of her workplace. She was very successful at being a kick-ass lawyer using every little detail to smack someone sitting across from her. But when it came to smacking herself she failed. She had been to many selfhelp groups but everytime she started quitting a new side of her came out. The desperate side, the weak side, that couldn´t handle stress-situations without a suck of malboro. The best part of smoking, thought Tiffany, was when she would crush a cigarette in an ashbowl as if to punish it for seducing her.

Eden was walking home, or atleast to the place she slept at night. About three hours sleep was the regular amount for her. It was enough to not faint the next day and just about the risk she would take. She was a girl with no family or friends, so to say no protection, no safety what so ever. For a girl like Eden the streets were a dangorous place to close your eyes.

She fished two newspapers out of the bin. She spread them out underneath the stairway of a pretty rundown apartment building and kneeled on it. She rested her haid againt one of the metall stairs. She heard a baby crie, the wind whistling. Somewhere in between a drunken man yelling and a woman shouting. There she fell asleep.

Tiffany had just crushed another cigarette when she wanted to go back to her office. She would yet again greet the doorman, take the elevater to the 25th floor of the skyscraper. Sit at her desk for 15 minutes and then come back down to smoke again. Banning smoking didn´t realy appeal to Tiffany.

She was about to enter the building when her eyes fell on a flyer covered in mud from the london streets. Soaked with water and trodd over by about a dozen feet Tiffany took pity on the flyer. But once she picked it up her pity turned into curiosity. The flyer beared words that emediately burned themselves into Tiffanys head. Do you want to do something with your life? It asked and all Tiffany could think was: YES.

With her expensive leather glove she wiped away the dirt of the flyer and read on.

Dear Sir or Madame,

Do you want a significant change in your life? Then help streetkids in India. Not only do you give your life a purpose you give others a purpose.

Contact us if you´re interested in volunteer work.

Underneath the writing was the phone number of the organization. She had gone into the lobby of the building and was now waiting for the elevator whilst reading. She sighed, no way, she wasn´t putting her life at risk for strangers. She was about to through it away when she caught the expression on the doorman´s face. He had obviously read the flyer over her shoulder. Tiffany saw the way he looked at her. His whole picture of Tiffany had changed in an instant. He no longer saw her as the desperate, working lady who hated her life and couldn´t control it, but as a blessing. As a person he could look up to, a person that was willing to risk her life to give. In that moment Tiffany realized that was the person she wanted to be and that she was going to spend her precious summer holidays in India, helping others. At that thought she had to smile, the elevator opened she got in and the doorman, for the first time in years said, "Have a wonderfull day Miss Scott." and bowed.

Hugh was sitting in his office looking at his shares on his computer. They were looking good. Hugh nodded to himself and then helped himself to a cold sip of coffee. He had given up hot coffee a long time ago. He was just to busy. Someone knocked on his door.

"Come in." He called and his secretary entered. She put a few files on his desk and then straightened her skirt. "Your wife called she wants you to confirm the dinnerplans for Friday night." Hugh looked up. He had just heard dinnerplans.

"Friday night?" The secretary nodded. "Your wedding aniversary, sir." Hugh was just slicing open a letter when he cut his hand. "Shit.", he murmered while wrapping his handkerchief around the cut. The secretary clapped her hand to her bright red mouth and stumbled backwards. "Oh god, Mr.Smith I´ll get someone to look at your hand, I´ll be right back." Hugh nodded still silently cursing the accident. It was about his wife. He wasn´t there on Friday, he was in India, he had promised Erwin, a very important Investor in his company to appear social by going to India and donating money to an organization that helped streetkids. With his unscarred hand he dialed in the number of his wifes cellphone. He got the mailbox. He quickly explained the situation, saying that he couldn´t come Friday but that they would celebrate saturday then her gave her and his kids a kiss and hung up. In that moment his secretary arrived with a first aid kit.





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