How to be HAPPY, dammit!

Yesterday I cycled my soul to the venerable Has Beans Coffee and Tea book nook. My entire pedal was an ode of contemplation for “The Triumph of Joy.” I was all eyes and ears encountering Humboldt Avenue, especially the seedy side, in a way and sense I had yet experienced — liberated, alive and HAPPY.

I parked my bicycle with glee to see what goodie I could score from the free library.

I absorbed the cabinetry: smiling at the Scooby Doo Mystery lettering and being soothed to see Edgar Allen Poe, my first love as a reader, hand-painted down the right-hand side. When my homage shifted to the books I saw just one; the orange book screaming HAPPY at me. I blurted, “Oh my God,” while rubbing my hands together with joy. Dammit, I saw no other book but this one, as if HAPPY was my girl longing for fondling. I was joyful to pedal my girl home with me.

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