Breaking silence

She is a Brazilian woman. Always scantly clad, thin body, long black hair and edited large breasts. She used to walk around with a huge Labrador and twenty years ago she was very attractive. She is still thin with same size over-breasts. In twenty years I have not talked to her once. Not even hello! Yesterday she sees me in the elevator with my fancy bike and while descending fifteen floors she manages to tell me of three different people she knows and that had serious bike accidents. Breaking silence - horror stories.

Smile - a forced smile

SMILE! you're on Candid Camera. This was in the old times.
Now you are on government surveillance  tapes or Google maps or Facebook.  In fact I tried to get a photo of myself for Google+. Took 30-40 shots a different times. Could not get a natural smile. Or a smile at all. Looking scary all the time. I'm having a problem, most likely. Like - hard life. Or - hard future. I used to smile not matter what and when in danger, to be funny and laugh. Was it a nervous laugh? Is there such a thing as a nervous smile. I think it was a smile saying - This  cannot happen to me. I don't smile anymore. Life happened.

Does literature...?

Does literature make us better people? Is the question literature that one actually reads? or the books on the shelves? Well, here are some statistics.
My answer is NO! But I guess you are better person if you read at least two books. (after college, of course)
Why two? Well as the philosopher said.....hominem unius libri timeo. Or was it a saint who said this?