Monday the 5th : Agents of Joy, The Review

Hospital is the last place you want to go to when you badly need some encouragement. But of course, there's no one going to the bank to date a prostitute, well, unless there is. And it was not a special evening, as the sun grew dim and the gloom went strong. Not to mention that the light on the so-called VVIP room seemed so shy to shine. The sick grandpa was sleeping soundly. His relatives was mutely sitting on chairs and bed around him. No one said a word as they might kill someone with little hisses from their poisonous breaths. It was a dead silent dusk. Not even creaks of crickets. There had to be one word to capture the momment. It's sad. Hospital should be hospitable as it's name, instead of horrible.

However, there's part of your body working so well in a melancholic silence. Unfortunately though, It's your brain who would attack you with their best cutthroat question. Why is this, why is that. How bliss can be bad. A miss make me mad. Taking piss on my pad. And so was that grandson's brain. There was nothing he could do other than watching his beloved grandpa sleeping with a brainstorm. Thought that struggled hard to drag him into an abyss of despair and despondency. 

Miracle always happens in critical second for believers. As a dreamer, the grandson looks for miracle every second he sleeps and he wakes. He finds it like everyday. And that frustated evening was not an exception. A silver line of memory struck his brain heavily and brought him back into an hour earlier. He  was walking in the parking lot as he saw a small pickup, one that they used to carry vegetables to the market, passed him by. It was fully loaded with eldery, so full so they couldn't even move any part of their body, let alone to sit. A way to go to hospital Albert Einstein could never even thought of. Nevermind  what were they doing in hospital. It's no better than Nazi's  death train. Yet they were chating, chuckling about whatever happily. The grandson was staring dumbfoundedly for seconds before he found his smile on the gloomy room and whispering.

'how cannot they be agents of joy?'

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i rate 7,5 out of 10