Short Story: 'Strings Of Happiness' By Nishant Naking Shrestha

711 Words 3 Pages
‘Strings of Happiness’
Nishant Narsing Shrestha
Sec 40588

Water drops from the sky fired like bullets from a machine gun and he was running under it, snuffling. Tears rolling down his cheeks, not noticeable, clothes- heavy because of the rain, wounds on his right hand stung him like stings from hundreds of bullet ants, famished, his stomach growled like a mad dog – Dan was having the most difficult times of his life and he was searching a silver lining of happiness.
Muddled, Dan was walking in a street-clomping without any plans. Wet clothes-a woolen red sweater with unique white printings, a denim-blue jeans and a dirty black leather shoes- ruffled hair and no destination to reach, he wandered into a narrow café with thin Japanese paper
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Come back tomorrow.” reluctantly replies the café owner in an Asian accent, startled, by seeing Dan during the closing time turning his head slightly towards right to check the time from a fancy round wall clock. The hour and the minute hands were near to 10. “I beg you, I even have the money to pay. Please give me something to eat, give me donuts and a hot cup of tea” pleaded Dan, on his knees.
“Ok!”
In the still and silent and cold surrounding, the words “Ok” from the frowned owner- medium length curly hair, about 5’5” height, brown skin, small pointed beard, squinty eyes and wearing a sports black jacket and a pair of black jeans- brought solace and calmness in the starving Dan’s heart.
The utensils were clanking, a tic sound and Dan could hear the fire roaring gently.
“Don’t you have a home where you can eat?” the hoarse sound of the
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He stayed like a statue in the blue wooden chair. After some silent thoughts in both of the men’s brain, the aroma of the tea filled the café. Dan’s mouth was watering awfully just from the aroma. The smell was unusually enticing. Dan was frequently moving his head to see if the tea was ready. He would put his head on the flat square marble table before him. And again he would rise his head and turn to see whether the tea is ready to serve. As Dan was getting restless because of his hunger, suddenly a tranquilizing sound of strings hits his ears. Someone was playing guitar just besides the café. The music was sad but beautiful. Dan felt as if an angel was playing the music as he was captivated by the sound, by the strokes he was hearing, by the plucking of the strings of the guitar. Dan felt like all of his burdens and stresses were being sucked out by the melody. He felt like the strings were crying along with him and the sad tunes were like a companion that could understand him perfectly. Never before was he so involved and lost in music. Dan’s sad face was now fading, sappy smile on his

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