Joy, Our Ongoing Story For All Ages: Part Three

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Chapter 4: The Sheet Of Glass.

Two years later, Adam and I were great friends. We spent the days skipping along and playing with each other. We ate berries and apples, and occasionally pears, and once, we had travelled very far and so, we tried a banana. Adam often suggested that we hunt down meat, but personally, I think that would be cruel to the animals. I prefer being vegan.

After a glorious day of chasing each other around and floating around the landscape, we would head to sleep. One day, we awoke to a beautiful sunrise. We watched it dumbly, thinking carefully. Finally, Adam spoke. “I wonder, What is at the very back of the cave?” “I don’t know.” I replied curiously. “We should find out.” Without a word, Adam rushed to stand up, and began running to the back of the cave. A few seconds later, I joined him. We ran for ages in the dark, wet cave. BAM! I hit the bottom of the cave. I felt a round piece of glass touch my chest and roll into a puddle. “Adam!” I call out. “Adam!” “Eve?” “Come here!” I got up, and soon he arrived. I picked up the piece of cold glass, and we ran out, the sunrise still a deep purple and pink. Curious, I glimpsed through the sheet of glass. Through the glass, it was like the world was telling a story, but without the glass it was in a different language. The glass translated it, and it was like the world was beckoning me to read it. I read the sunrise. The story wasn’t exactly told in words. It more just floated into your mind and suddenly you knew it. The story went like this: The world was created. It was created by a golden girl who went by the name of Joy. Her real name was Lola, which means sadness, which didn’t suit her in the slightest. She was amazing. She was nowhere. She was everywhere. The world needed her. Without her, the world would be gone. She didn’t own the world. She was the world. She could never die. Unless she cut her left hand off. She created the world with her left hand. If that was gone, she’d be gone, the world with it. She didn’t know of this rule, but it is most likely that her left hand will never be cut off. But she knew she created the world. And she was beautiful.  Braids flowed across her back, and she wore a blue dress dotted with white along with black tights, and a bright yellow flower in her golden-brown hair. Brown freckles dotted her golden-tanned face. She was gorgeous. I passed Adam the glass and told him to look through. I watched as a look of awe appeared on his face. “Read the sunrise.” I said. He read it. “Joy.” he said. “Joy.” We said. “Joy”. I said. “Joy.” “Joy.” “Joy.” “Joy.” It was beautiful to say. I read everything. The trees. The grass. The clouds. They all told a unique story of their own. Stories of castles and lands that don’t exist. Stories of faint yellow rain boots with minds of their own. Stories of knights in shining armour, dragons, princesses and heroes. “Joy.” Stories of wizards and witches, and young children lost and trying to find their way home. Stories of never giving up hope. “Joy.” I gave Adam the glass and I could see that the feeling of pure amazement was washing over him in a daze of pure curiosity. A few times, I questioned if I was just dreaming. The glass was amazing. After looking through it, you see the world through a new pair of eyes. It was brilliant. But that was the wrong word to describe it. It was normal. It made you think that you should have seen the world this way all along. The best thing I had ever experienced. There was no word to describe it except for the simplest thing: normal. “Joy.” I said. “Joy.” Adam said.

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