Pig teaches Robert first step to be a blogger

It was a cool night. Robert walked to lay near my chair.

“Pig, I heard that being a blogger needs to know how to write and love writing, isn’t it?” He said.

“Being a blogger is a kind of career dealing with writing more than other jobs, but I don’t think we have to love writing in order to be a blogger,” I said.

“Like I, I can write, but I can’t write long articles, I can be a blogger, can’t I?”

“I think you can.”

“If so, please teach me. I want to be a blogger. I want to earn money.”

“Being a blogger doesn’t mean we can earn money.”

“I know; however, at least it can help.”

I nodded my head, “Yes, it can help us - sometimes.”

“Teach me.”

“Well, I have experience with Blogspot and Wordpress. Which one do you want to choose to be your channel?”

“What is the difference between them?”

“If you choose Blogspot, you will spend about $20 a year but your site is under control of Google. If you choose Wordpress, you will have more freedom, but you need to buy a plan - the low price plan with a monetization option is about $120 a year.”

“Can I choose both?”

“Of course, you can.”

“Okay, I choose both of them. What’s next?”

“You need to find a niche for your website. I mean a topic. Then you have to find your domain.”

“Can you give advice on these points?”

“I can give you advice related to the domain. You should select a domain which is easy to say, to remember, and it should not so specific because if you want to change topic of your site, you can change it; if your domain is so specific, you might be have to change your domain, and it will affect your site and also your readers.”

“What’s about the niche?”

“It is about your own preference. I can’t give a comment.”

Robert wagged in a row.

“Think about these two things. After you find them, we can talk about it more.”

Robert nodded his head, “Okay.”

Because of a woman, Robert is working hard

It was early morning. Crow told that she got well, so she would go back to her home. Before she flew, she thanked us for taking care of her these few days.

After the crow left, Robert and I went to the garden.

“It was a long time. You don’t deliver the vegetables to your customer,” Robert said.

“This is a hot season. There is little rain, so the vegetables are not growing well. We have to wait for about one or two more months,” I said.

“Where can we get money while waiting for the vegetables?”

“I told you before that I am not earning from only vegetables but from being a blogger too.”

“Well, can you teach me how to be a blogger?”

I looked at him, “You are learning how to do business with me. Now you want to learn how to be a blogger. Why?”

“I think I should study multiple majors at the same time.”

“What is the cause?”

Robert didn’t reply, just made his face low and showed a shy behavior.

“I got it.” I nodded my head in a row. “You work hard because of that female human.”

Robert did shoulders shimmy, then he expanded his right hand to touch my arm within a manner of shyness, but because he used much strength, the touch turned to be a push and as a result I laid my face in wet soil.

“Oh sorry Pig. I didn’t mean it.” He hurriedly came to help me out.  

True friend

I did not go into a friend group for several days.

Tonight, I was online. My friends in the group were chatting, but I didn’t join, I just read their chat.

‘I attended Rani’s funeral. Also, her 7 day funeral.’

‘I attended only her 7 day funeral.’

‘I did not see you.’

‘I went in the evening. I took time after I left the office. I felt pity for her.’

‘Yes, I pitied her. She is our friend. She passed away at a young age. So pitiful.’

‘Very sorry about her.’

‘I read her chats in our group. I miss her.’

‘I offered $ 100 to her family.’

‘Yes, I miss her.’

I scanned their photos. I wondered, they were at the funeral, but they smiled when they took photos.

They continued their chatting.

‘I did not see Sopie at the funeral.’

Sopie was my name. They talked about me.  Though I did not chat, I was online. They should see, but because they did not pay attention, they didn’t notice my presence.

‘It is not appropriate. At least, she should go to see friend for the last time.’

‘She did not go to the 7 day funeral too.’

‘Cold heart woman.’

‘We should ask her. Maybe she went but we did not see her.’

‘If she attended, she should have a photo. I did not see her posted photos of the funeral nor in the group. It means she did not attend. I didn’t feel good about her.’

‘Yes, right. She should not call herself a friend of Rani.’

Suddenly, a message appeared in our group. It was from Rani.

I opened my eyes big. How could she write a message to our group? She died already.

I bet my friends were surprised too. They all saw her message. She wrote a long text.

'Dear Sopie,

I write this message for you.

I know you did not attend my funeral and you will not for sure.

Even though I am not angry or upset with you because you are my real friend.

I was sick for months. Only my family knew. I did not tell any friend even you. I felt depressed when I realized my days were numbered. I was scared. I posted many posts. Friends just clicked like or love. Only you, you sent a private message to me, asked me how I was, and chatted with me. 

When I posted a message to the group – that I was not happy – no friend replied to me. Only you. You replied to me, you chatted with me, also you called me and spoke all night. Moreover, you took me out. 

I remember you took me to the Royal Palace because you knew I wanted to see the emerald Buddha statue. It was the greatest day I ever had. 

Then days later, you took me to visit the national museum. You were my guide. I listened to your telling about the museum and statue that you knew; it was very great telling. 

I remember when you took me to have lunch at a restaurant along the river side, near Varin pagoda. We had lunch there and stayed on a hammock, getting fresh air from the river until 4pm then we came back to Phnom Penh. 

I was very glad when you accompanied me to see animation and comedy movies at the cinema. I laughed. I forgot my pain at those moments. 

Every time you came to take me out, you spent. Car petrol, meals and even cinema tickets. I spent less. You spent time with me, cared about me, when I was alive, while other friends think of me when I’m already gone. 

I feel it’s useless when they pray to me and talk with me through the incense. I don’t hear them. I wanted to hear them, to see them when my ears and my eyes were opened, but they did not show up. They did not even take a look or chat with me in group. I don’t feel they are my friends although they attend my funeral or 7 day funeral or offer much money to my funeral. Because I don’t know or hear anything anymore.

Sopie, I want to take this chance to make my last announcement to the group and to our friends that only you are friends with me. And I have no regret knowing you. Also, I leave in peace and rest in peace. You are my friend forever and I believe I am your friend in your heart forever too.

Good bye, Sopie. 

Love you.

From Rani,'

My lips smiled when I read this message and two drops of tear fell down my face. 

Yes, I did not attend her funeral because I felt I have already done enough for her as her friend. I did not want to see her sleeping and cold because I wanted to keep her beautiful smiling and active image, when we had fun together, forever in my mind. I felt peaceful as I learnt she left in peace and I was glad to see her saying she rested in peace.

Rani’s messages were seen by all friends in the group. They were silent. 

Then another message from Rani showed up.

'Hello everyone,

I am the younger sister of Rani. She gave this message, before she died, and asked me to send it to the group on the night of the 7 day funeral.

Perhaps this message scares you. I am so sorry.

My sister told everything about sister Sopie.

My parents and I would like to express great thank to sister Sopie what she had helped my sister while she was in hard time. We really thank you for your kindness and true friendship to our sister.'

After that, Rani’s name was removed – by her sister – from our group.

Pig is writing a short romantic fiction

Crow was still staying in my house; however, she was much better.

After dinner, three of us gathered at the table in my front yard. Robert and crow were playing a ball and I was sitting in a chair and typing.

When they were tired, they came to the table. As Robert saw me typing, he asked, “What are you writing?”

“I am writing fiction.”

“Oh,” he unlocked his eyes, “what’s it about?”

“It’s a romance between a bird and a fish.”

“Do you take inspiration from my romance?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I planned this story a few years ago. I had the story's plot and frame already. I just kept it. After I heard your love story, I remembered this story; so I took it out and decided to write it.”

“Wow, you are good. Can you tell me how you make a bird and a fish love each other? How do you make it start?”

“Well,” I turned to the crow, “Can you tell me what you think when you see a fish?”

“My institution tells me to eat it,” the crow said.

I turned to Robert, “It’s how the story starts.”

“I don’t understand.” Robert shook his head.

“Neither do I.” Crow wagged her head.

I chuckled, “If it is easy to understand, it can't be called a romance.”

Both Robert and crow raised their thumbs up.