BEAUTIFUL! just like you are, Adrian Morales. A beautiful soul with a good heart, that I know will help others with their pain through your beautiful short stories and poems. You will be that
beacon of light in their darkness. I will miss you the most from here. Thanks for sharing your work with me. I loved these so much;
By simply gazing at this colourful square, I feel as though I have already been there. On those cobbled stairs, I noticed a cute pair. The lovers were sharing sweet nothings without a single care. The young boy picked up a flower and put it in the girl’s hair. I tried not to stare. Oh, I remember the large fair. Many people had gathered in all the fun to share. The children were running around faster than a mare. I was also among them, enjoying a delicious eclair. The scent of Spring could be felt in the air. At night, the bright lights from the many fireworks filled up the square. I wish you could have been there. But do not despair. Just take a quick look at this colourful square, and you’ll soon be there, I do declare.
ADRIAN YOUR KIND SOUL WRITE BEAUTIFUL THINGS LIKE THIS ONE, TOO. LOVE IT!
On a bright sunny day, during the warm month of May, I decided to leave the house and not be such an indoor mouse. “Everything is so pretty,” I would often remark, while I strolled through the flowery park. I sat on a bench and opened the book that I took to improve my French. Delicately, a little bird alighted on the dew-soaked grass. I made no sudden moves, so it could freely pass. It jumped from blade to blade, looking for food, I naturally assumed. I turned to my book and my reading I resumed. The little bird unexpectedly looked at me. I pretended I did not see. I had no food, no water to give. The little bird would just have to leave. “Well met!” said the little bird in a manner so concise. I simply stood there, frozen like a block of ice. Was I imagining this? Was there something amiss? I could see the little bird, but how could I hear its each and every word? Then it continued: “For you, I have a story.” I gathered there was nothing to worry. “Please go ahead,” I told the little bird. “But only for a piece of bread.” Where would I even get some food? Around me, there was nothing but hardwood. I quickly sprinted to a local shop, returning with delicious treats faster than a bellhop.
The little bird began: “During our flight, my friends and I saw a golden field. Lots of yummy things we knew it would yield.” The little bird then looked down, as if to frown. “We made quite the fuss, so we did not notice black shadows had surrounded us. Thundering noises followed, and my friends fell to the ground. None would give out a single sound. I flew away so that I would not end up as prey.”
I wept at the story told by the little bird. It was the saddest thing I had ever heard. I wiped my tears and made a promise: “Each day I will come and feed you, so you will never feel blue.” “Thank you, but feed my brothers and sisters too.”