As Diana set foot in the bathtub, blade in one hand and the liquor bottle in the other, Cherubin plaintively meowed as though the little critter divined her owner’s terminal intentions. What irked Diana was that she knew Cherubin wasn’t hungry. She had already made sure to leave her a plateful of food and had intentionally left the bedroom window ajar. In case her suicide went as planned, Cherubin would exit to safety. But her vocal persistence distracted Diana from her mission and snapped her out of her intoxication–the idea that a soul cared, albeit an animal's, made a difference. She hence donned her bathrobe, set down what was in her hands, and picked up Cherubin gingerly: “Concerned for Mummy, Arrenchye angel?”
Diana’s despair was rooted in her separation from her five-year-long hubby, the loss of her mom to COVED, and the ensuing suicide of her grieving father, in rapid succession.
She set Cherubin on the floor, calmed down. Diana went to the living room and crashed on the sofa, falling in deep sleep.
She woke up the next morning with a hangover, so she made a latte and seated herself on the tattered sofa on the porch of the dilapidated country house she resided in. As she reflected on what she plotted to do last night, she smiled at her furry angel napping beside her. She firmly believed Cherubin, relevantly named, knowingly and purposely intervened.
As she looked down on the porch's wooden floor, suddenly a large wasp dropped and beat its wings frantically before its fluttering came to a quick halt.
Soon after, a rambling, tiny ant approached, checked the dead insect, and feverishly traced back its steps. Diana sipped her drink, pensively engaged.
Many minutes passed, then a group of ants came and made repeated attempts at hauling the huge wasp. About two dozen of them worked in unison to haul it down one of the porch's wooden beams, but as they reached the end of the floor, the sharp angle made many haulers lose touch with the ground and left them suspended in the air.
The crowd fell down. Upon hitting ground, they were in disarray but quickly regrouped round the insect. They repeated the same attempt over and over, not minding the precipitous fall nor the wasted effort. Gradually, they decided to dismember the wasp. Some invaded its wings, others went for the limbs, hacking on voraciously, tirelessly, till all that was left was a headless torso. Within an hour, there was no trace of the wasp. Their collaborative effort paid off.
Diana reflected, life is full of hardships but perseverance and communal engagement create purpose. She must go on, for Cherubin's sake, for her country. It was cowardice to give in, to call it quits before she even began life. A young, pretty woman in her mid-twenties like her full of promise ought never to succumb to depression. She got up, rode her car heading to town, determined to get a job somewhere, anywhere.
Diana’s despair was rooted in her separation from her five-year-long hubby, the loss of her mom to COVED, and the ensuing suicide of her grieving father, in rapid succession.
She set Cherubin on the floor, calmed down. Diana went to the living room and crashed on the sofa, falling in deep sleep.
She woke up the next morning with a hangover, so she made a latte and seated herself on the tattered sofa on the porch of the dilapidated country house she resided in. As she reflected on what she plotted to do last night, she smiled at her furry angel napping beside her. She firmly believed Cherubin, relevantly named, knowingly and purposely intervened.
As she looked down on the porch's wooden floor, suddenly a large wasp dropped and beat its wings frantically before its fluttering came to a quick halt.
Soon after, a rambling, tiny ant approached, checked the dead insect, and feverishly traced back its steps. Diana sipped her drink, pensively engaged.
Many minutes passed, then a group of ants came and made repeated attempts at hauling the huge wasp. About two dozen of them worked in unison to haul it down one of the porch's wooden beams, but as they reached the end of the floor, the sharp angle made many haulers lose touch with the ground and left them suspended in the air.
The crowd fell down. Upon hitting ground, they were in disarray but quickly regrouped round the insect. They repeated the same attempt over and over, not minding the precipitous fall nor the wasted effort. Gradually, they decided to dismember the wasp. Some invaded its wings, others went for the limbs, hacking on voraciously, tirelessly, till all that was left was a headless torso. Within an hour, there was no trace of the wasp. Their collaborative effort paid off.
Diana reflected, life is full of hardships but perseverance and communal engagement create purpose. She must go on, for Cherubin's sake, for her country. It was cowardice to give in, to call it quits before she even began life. A young, pretty woman in her mid-twenties like her full of promise ought never to succumb to depression. She got up, rode her car heading to town, determined to get a job somewhere, anywhere.
