But The Smile was all alone and though indeed self sufficient, The Smile grew impatient and bored, wishing for something to happen. Out of The Smile’s boredom wish, Time came upon to entertain The Smile’s loneliness. And Time said to The Smile “Just wait you, I will change you and you will not be bored anymore.”

And then Time whispered a magic word and The Smile grew larger and larger and larger, so large that The Smile eventually blew dozens of little sharp Laughters out of The Smile’s own self. The little baby Laughters jumped around and played and sang and they grew along with The Smile and Time as the first and happiest of all perfect famillies.

When many little Laughters grew into mature sleepy smiles – or some into ironic smirks – it was Time’s time to feel bored. But it was in Time’s powers – and responsibilities that Time’s own self imposed onto Time at the time of Time’s creation – to change things around. So Time took one of the little Laughters that still hadn’t had the time to grow too much, and rolled it over upside-down and squized him so hard that the little Laughter turned into a Cry. Time found this entartaing and every once in a while he caught some of the tiniest Laughters, some of the youngest that The Smile had recently blown, and twisted them again and rolled them over and inside out and crippled them into another Cry.

By the time Time became bored of this game, there were so many Cries all around, nearly as many as Laughters, and Time had become so profficient in the skill of making Cries, that every now and then a new Cry was stolen from The Smiles’ little baby Laughters just with a blink of the Time’s will.

Seeing all this, The Smile wanted to have a serious talk with Time, yet the Time kept posponing it forever and ever, and it so happens that still, every now and then and more often than anyone would like, little baby Laughters are turned into cries, by noone’s will in particular – noone brave and decent enough to admit it. They say – everyone around says – that “time will take care of everything”, but nobody ever says when.

“Excuse me? I am slightly failing to understand your elaborate question.”, I said with my eyes pinned in the book.

“When you’re miserable, once you come to realize you are so, does that make you feel better? And when you’re happy, once you realize you are so, does that make you feel worse?” she blurted it out in one breath.

“Hard to say about happines, but if I’m miserable realizing it only makes me more miserable.” I answered, experiencing the honestity of my words as I spoke them.

“Are you sure? For I strongly believe that when you are miserable, you can only BE miserable. There’s no room for any other feeling. So once you come to the realization of your stat and condition, you just have yourself something new. Hence, you’re less miserable, even if only by a very small degree.” she went on.

“I guess if you put it that way then it does make some sense”, I said.

“Consequently, when you’re happy – and I mean trully really happy – you can only be happy without any room for other feeling. And once you…”

“Yeah, I get it but I have to dissagree with that.” I closed my book and looked at her.

“Do tell, please.”

“When I’m happy, realizing that I am happy onmy makes me extra happier.” I said.

“Then 2 questions come to mind: were you either not happy enough, for there would not have been room for any MORE happiness, and the realization of your actual (assuming complete) happiness does not bring in a sad part simply because it cannot last forever?”

“First,” I said putting my book away, “happiness can get as big as you wish and if it gets “too” big it may as well explode like an overly inflated baloon and make me die of too much happiness – in which case I would keep being happy even in death, hence another extra happiness. And second, your initial question didn’t even imply a termination of either of the two situations – in which case we’re branching on a new subject here.”

“When I’m miserable I feel, obviously, miserable. But as soon as I realize I feel miserable, I also realize it will end at some point sooner and later and the realization of its finite state is enough to make me feel better.” she said in a half appologetical half optimistic voice.

“And you’re telling me this because?” I asked, reaching back for my book.

“Because ten more minutes of my current miserable state have passed and I’m closer to my no-longer-miserable state in which I won’t be annoying you with existential questions. Thank you.” she said.

“You’re welcome.”