Extract:
“But,” I looked straight into her eyes, “the way you
responded, it appears you’re not happy with your
profession.” Her deep brown eyes seemed to hold back
stories untold, and the smile was provocative but
restrained. I continued to look at her, admiring her
beauty, not minding the delay in her response.
“Why just me?” She looked at her drink to avoid eye
contact. “If you notice the faces of people driving to
work, or even working, do you see happiness or torture?
This tells me that the majority of people are not happy
with what they do.”
“Yes, I see the same expressions of anger, frustration,
and despair on the faces of people leaving for their
homes. So if I go by your criteria, people are not happy
to go home either!” I raised my eyebrows to provoke a
response.
She smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth. “You are
absolutely right. My theory is that most people are
unhappy most of the time. How about you? Are you happy
with your life?”
I was caught off-guard by her question. I sipped my
drink, taking some time to think of the answer.
