Short Story: A Happy Man Hello everybody. I left you a story I just finished. This time I tried to rite it in English. Thanks for correcting me. A Happy Man This man wears a fancy tuxedo. His shoes shining while shaking his hands. He was happy before stepping into the church, before the long wait for the bride. He was happy indeed, when at the age of eight his mother came to the house with a puppy. It was white and puffy, and its eyes so bright, so gray. "You want it?” She said. His hand touched the little animal. The fingers dancing slowly over the silky coat. "Yes, yes mom" said he, crying. Bruno was called the dog, and Bruno was the name embedded in gold letters on its grave three years later. It was somebody’s fault, somebody in a car driving, running over and then getting away. One day when he was in college, his mother asked: "Do you want to go to the beach" "Yes, mom" he replied. And he was happy again, packing his clothes in a large bag and then carrying into the car. But there was truck, a huge truck crossing the empty highway. He saw it, his mother didn’t. She was driving, he’s alive, bearly alive. Now, while the bride walks into the church at the fresh rhythm of the organ, he is happy again. When the priest asks the final question, he will say happily. “No. I don’t.”