Oops!
We can't seem to find the page you're looking for.
Error code: 404
What if we all had a tail? No, not a pony tail on your head but a real tail, like the one from a rat. You know, down your back, just above your bum. There where the tail once was remains no more than a little hump. That was when man were not humans yet, and maybe a closer family to the hare. When we still walked on four paws or legs. That’s when we had a tail over there. Very convenient for some extra support. Or to use it as an handy third hand. So you can scratch these unreachable spots - that can be very nice, you understand. Copyright © 2022 Nathalie Abbing
Copyright © 2022 Nathalie Abbing
In the crowded streets he was fully ignored. There was absolutely no one who greeted him friendly or just said something to him. Little Secret felt very sad because he had no friends at all, there was no one who knew, who or what little Secret was.
Little Secret no longer wanted to be a small unknown. Of which no one had known that it ever could exist. Because even a little Secret, Little Secret thought, deserves a little fame.
Little Secret wanted to scream, shout: “here I am!, this is me, this is what I know and can. So look at me and to what I am made off’.
But then, when little Secret opened his little mouth, there was only a soft whisper that, like a gentile breeze, without so much as to touch something or someone, disappeared through the streets.
Little Secret needed some support to assure that he would be heard. A microphone, a stage with lots of light and hours of broadcast time all for maximum exposure. Cameras will take care of the necessary close-ups so nothing will be missed of all he has to say.
Then there was the moment that the big audience awaited his grand entrée. They all held their breath when the director started the count-down 5…4…3…2…
But when the little light of the camera turned red and little Secret told what he had to tell, little Secret went down like a pudding.
He shrunk and shrunk until there was nothing more than an ordinary babble of what there were already too many.
The public started to bawl Boo!, boo!, boo!… That’s a bunch of bull. That is no little Secret. This is what we now all know. Nobody is waiting for this. It’s nothing more than a weird story.
That was the end of little Secret, he was a little Babble now. Yes, everybody looked at him, everyone knew now who he was and they were talking about him.
But it wasn’t for very long or a new babble was told. The new one quickly past by and the Babble was soon forgotten. Old news was of course not that interesting anymore.
Babble longed for the days when he still was a little Secret. Even though he had no friends, and he wasn’t visible to anyone. He did know he was the only one, who had his own little Secret and that he, like no one else, could keep it safe for always.
In a vague dark corner sat a little secret all alone on his own silently staring into nothing. Existence, so found little Secret, was but a lonely thing.
Copyright © 2022 Nathalie Abbing
In the crowded streets he was fully ignored. There was absolutely no one who greeted him friendly or just said something to him. Little Secret felt very sad because he had no friends at all, there was no one who knew, who or what little Secret was.
Little Secret no longer wanted to be a small unknown. Of which no one had known that it ever could exist. Because even a little Secret, Little Secret thought, deserves a little fame.
Little Secret wanted to scream, shout: “here I am!, this is me, this is what I know and can. So look at me and to what I am made off’.
But then, when little Secret opened his little mouth, there was only a soft whisper that, like a gentile breeze, without so much as to touch something or someone, disappeared through the streets.
Little Secret needed some support to assure that he would be heard. A microphone, a stage with lots of light and hours of broadcast time all for maximum exposure. Cameras will take care of the necessary close-ups so nothing will be missed of all he has to say.
Then there was the moment that the big audience awaited his grand entrée. They all held their breath when the director started the count-down 5…4…3…2…
But when the little light of the camera turned red and little Secret told what he had to tell, little Secret went down like a pudding.
He shrunk and shrunk until there was nothing more than an ordinary babble of what there were already too many.
The public started to bawl Boo!, boo!, boo!… That’s a bunch of bull. That is no little Secret. This is what we now all know. Nobody is waiting for this. It’s nothing more than a weird story.
That was the end of little Secret, he was a little Babble now. Yes, everybody looked at him, everyone knew now who he was and they were talking about him.
But it wasn’t for very long or a new babble was told. The new one quickly past by and the Babble was soon forgotten. Old news was of course not that interesting anymore.
Babble longed for the days when he still was a little Secret. Even though he had no friends, and he wasn’t visible to anyone. He did know he was the only one, who had his own little Secret and that he, like no one else, could keep it safe for always.
In a vague dark corner sat a little secret all alone on his own silently staring into nothing. Existence, so found little Secret, was but a lonely thing.
Copyright © 2022 Nathalie Abbing