The Strange World of Joseph Gilderstein
Since I was a boy breathing never came very easy for me. The heaviness of my chest moving up and down is such displeasure. Sleeping never came easy to me either; it just gets in the way of my temped imagination. Sometimes I wish I could just stay up for a week without sleeping or taking in one breath. Ridiculous you say? Perhaps, but then life itself is a bit ridiculous and absurd. I mean we sleep, eat, go to work, and then wake up the next morning and do the same thing all over again. A bit mundane and predictable wouldn’t you say? One day I’d like to be different; one day I’d like to soar like an eagle above the clouds and never come back down. Did you know that if you keep going in a straight line around the world, eventually you will end up right back where you started? Did you know that or am i just telling you something that you already know? This world is just a giant beach ball and one day we are all going to bounce off of it. When death comes I hope I will be sipping on a Pina Colada on a beach somewhere in the Caribbean. I’d hate to think I should die in a room with some ugly green carpets; that would be such a shame. For the moment I think I will dream of what’s next in the afterlife. I wonder if I can take my dog Mr Big Paws to Heaven. Mr Big Paws is quite heavy though. I wonder if he would fall through the clouds because he is so heavy?
Please excuse me, I've been rambling on and I haven't told you my name. My name is Gilderstein, Joseph Gilderstein, and I am a dreamer. Professional dreamer of course, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I am also quite good at complaining. Complaining has been a passion of mine since I was the tender age of nine; that was the year I learned complaining could get you anything you wanted in life. Don’t like your desk at school? Complain and you’ll be moved. Don’t like those ugly brown boots your mother bought you? Complain and she’ll get you a cooler pair. Yes, complaining does have it’s advantages I suppose. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could complain your way to being a millionaire? Then everyone would be rich I suppose, but me, I’d be a billionaire..............
© Copyright 2016 Stephen F Campbell. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Children Stories
Short Story / Humor
Poem / Poetry
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