The Dwarf Story

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  - I wish I would've been a grown man. Is that wrong? Is it too much? 
  Asked me a dwarf.
  - Oh, shut up! Dwarfs don't become grown men. They stay like this: small and cute. 
  - But I am not cute. I even have a few wrinkles, I'm old, a falling rock, nothing.
  - And now what do want? sit here and complain about things that you can't change? Come on, get yourself together and move on!
  - Like th ...
  - Yes, just like that!
  - You are a little agressive. Who hired you on this position? 
  - Which position?
  - This one. 
  - I'm not hired anywhere, dude. I don't know what you are talking about.
  - What do you mean? We are in the counseling  office. What are you doing here if you are not a counselor? 
  I looked around and found myself in a strange wooden room with a couch, a desk where I sat on one side and the dwarf on the other. I looked in the mirror- Yes, it was me, but I had no idea where I am and why. I went outside and read what it was written on the door: " Hell's Counselor Office". 
  I came back and sat down in front of the dwarf who was giving me strange looks.
  - So, what's going on, miss? Why suddenly so quiet?
  - Excuse me, mr. dwarf, please go on with your story.
  - As I was saying, I thought of all kind of solution , I even thought of suicide.
  - Sui what? Mr. dwarf, please don't talk of such things. 
  - Yes, I know is difficult to understand for someone like you even for the other dwarfs; they really enjoy their condition, I don't because I see the big picture: This is a situation that I have to bare for eternity since we are basically imortal ...
  - Yeah, yeah ...
  - But we are growing old though ... I mean we are not imortal, young and beautiful like The Highlander. I am depressed for two weeks. I don't know what to do. 
  While I was listening to the dwarf's story I was discreetly  searching my bag under the table. 
  " So, lighter, mirror ... phone ... found it! "
  - So, what do you think I should do? 
  I took out my gun and ZBUFFFF! right in the dwarf's head. 
  " I don't have time for this, man"
  I came close to check on him ... he was dead alright. 
  " Didn't he say he is imortal?" This reminded me of the song You can get it if you really want  and I thought " What the hell, maybe you really can" and left the office. 
  On my way home I thought it would be nice to write a message to the only guilty guy for al this situation:
  " Dear, Satan, I played along with many of your practical jokes, but this time you went too far so is your turn to play along with mine. Good luck washing the dwarf brains of the counseling office! 
  See you soon, 
  Ada "