Hazel the Hippo Hops to Happiness E-Book

Kelly Johnson

• Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 104

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Hazel the Hippo awakens to a bright, sunlit morning on the riverbank, but despite the sparkling beauty around her, she feels a heavy, unshakable gloom in her heart. As she watches the shimmering ripples, darting fish, and bustling wildlife, Hazel reflects on past moments of joy and realizes that happiness isnt simply found in playful splashes, laughter, or the beauty of natureits something deeper, quieter, and more elusive, waiting to be discovered within herself. Step by careful step, she begins to notice the subtle wonders of the worldthe gentle sway of reeds, the sunlight on dragonflies, the soft murmur of the riverand feels the tiniest flicker of hope stir in her heart. Through observation, reflection, and tentative action, Hazel learns that happiness may not be a sudden, bright burst but a gradual journey, patiently revealed in small, meaningful moments, and she resolves to follow that journey, embracing curiosity, courage, and the gentle rhythm of life around her.

Leseprobe

IMPRESSUM

Hazel the Hippo Hops to Happiness

Author: Kelly Johnson

© 2025 Kelly Johnson.

All rights reserved.

Author: Kelly Johnson

Contact: 903 W Woodland Ave, Kokomo, IN 46902

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer

This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – Hazel’s Heavy Heart

Chapter 2 – A Splash of Sunshine

Chapter 3 – The Meadow of Music

Chapter 4 – The Bubble Surprise

Chapter 5 – The Great Mud-Pie Picnic

Chapter 6 – A Helping Hippo

Chapter 7 – The Dance of the Fireflies

Chapter 8 – The Rainbow Wish

Chapter 9 – Hazel’s Happy Surprise

Chapter 10 – Hopping into Happiness

Hazel the Hippo Hops to Happiness

By: Kelly Johnson

Chapter 1 – Hazel’s Heavy Heart

Hazel the Hippo woke slowly, stretching her wide, round body as the first golden rays of sunlight kissed the riverbank. The warmth of the sun brushed against her stubby ears and the top of her smooth, gray back, making her shiver with a soft, sleepy delight. The river before her shimmered like a trail of tiny diamonds, each ripple catching the light in sparkling patterns that danced and leapt across the surface. Dragonflies zipped back and forth, their delicate wings catching the sun in flashes of emerald and sapphire, while the reeds swayed gently, whispering secrets to the breeze. The trees, tall and proud, rustled softly, as if greeting the morning in their own leafy language.

And yet… Hazel felt a strange heaviness in her heart, a weight that made her yawn and sigh at the same time. It pressed down on her chest like an invisible stone, dulling the brightness around her. She shifted her round body closer to the river, letting her massive head droop onto her stubby forelegs. She stared into the water, her reflection rippling with every small wave, and blinked slowly. “Why do I feel so… dull?” she murmured to herself, her voice barely louder than the breeze through the reeds. “Everything looks so bright and alive, and yet… I don’t feel happy.”

Her large ears drooped a little, heavy with a strange, lingering gloom, and her wide nose brushed against the cool, rippling surface of the river. Hazel wiggled her stubby toes in the soft, yielding mud beneath her, squishing and squelching the earth with slow, tentative movements. The familiar, comforting sensation—mud cool and pliant against her thick skin, yielding gently under her weight—usually brought a simple, playful relief. Today, however, even this simple, squishy joy felt only partially comforting, like dipping a paw into a shallow puddle of happiness that didn’t quite reach her heart. She pressed her toes a little deeper into the mud, imagining for a fleeting moment that it could absorb the heavy feeling clinging stubbornly inside her, soaking up the shadow that seemed to follow her with each quiet breath. But the weight remained, stubborn and persistent, a soft pressure that reminded her something within her wasn’t quite right.

Hazel’s round, amber eyes drifted downward, tracing the darting shadows of fish beneath the water. Silver flashes flickered beneath the surface like miniature stars, darting in quick, playful bursts that sent sunlight scattering across the river in tiny, dancing fragments. She leaned closer, mesmerized by the way their scales caught the light, their movements almost hypnotic, like a living constellation beneath the river’s surface. For a moment, Hazel felt as if she could reach down and touch the glowing creatures, her own reflection rippling and stretching with every undulation of the water, creating a distorted, shimmering image of herself that felt both familiar and strangely distant.

She let out a slow, thoughtful sigh, watching the little fish twist and turn with a grace she had never known she could admire. Their freedom, their effortless gliding through the liquid world, seemed to mock her awkward, cumbersome movements on the riverbank. Hazel’s chest tightened slightly, a pang of longing for that kind of lightness fluttering through her heart. Yet, beneath the ache, there was a tiny, almost imperceptible flicker—a whisper of curiosity and hope—that perhaps, one day, she could find that same ease in her own way, in her own round, clumsy, wonderful body.

The river murmured softly, a soothing, constant rhythm, and Hazel rested her broad chin on the edge of the bank, letting the water lap gently against her cheeks. Each ripple and shimmer reminded her that the world moved steadily forward, carrying light and life along with it, even when her own heart felt slow and heavy. She pressed her nose against the muddy edge, inhaling the earthy aroma mixed with the crisp scent of the water and the faint sweetness of wildflowers along the bank. Step by step, she whispered to herself. Notice, breathe, feel… maybe happiness isn’t lost—it’s just waiting for me to find it in a new way.

Hazel’s stubby legs twitched, and with a tentative wiggle of her toes, she pushed a little forward, letting the mud squish deliciously between her hooves. A tiny shiver of anticipation ran through her chest. Perhaps this was the start—a quiet, trembling step toward something she couldn’t yet name, a gentle nudge toward the spark she had felt in brighter days. And as she leaned closer to watch a fish dart beneath the sunlit ripples, Hazel felt the faintest glimmer of hope stir in her round, amber eyes, reflecting the silver flashes of the river and the soft promise that maybe, just maybe, happiness wasn’t far away after all.

Her mind wandered back to yesterday—the memory both warm and bittersweet. She had splashed joyfully in the river, sending droplets flying in sparkling arcs that caught the sun like tiny diamonds. Laughter had bubbled from her chest freely, a sound that had once felt unstoppable, ringing across the riverbank as her friends joined in the fun. She remembered nibbling on juicy, green water lilies floating serenely on the water, savoring their crisp, fresh taste. By all accounts, she should have felt light, cheerful, and carefree—her heart should have been dancing as wildly as her hooves.

Yet even as she recalled these happy moments, the smiles they had sparked seemed to vanish almost as quickly as they had appeared. The laughter faded into silence, leaving a quiet hollow in her chest, a soft, echoing emptiness no giggle, splash, or bright sunlight could fill. Hazel blinked slowly, watching her reflection ripple across the water, and wondered if happiness had decided to drift upstream, beyond her reach, leaving her behind in a world that looked dazzling, vibrant, and alive, but somehow felt impossibly distant.

The river continued its gentle song, the wind whispered through the reeds, and the faint hum of distant birds filled the morning air. Hazel felt the tiniest flicker of something deep inside—a hint of curiosity, a quiet whisper of hope. Perhaps happiness was not something she could simply find or hold; perhaps it was something she had to discover within herself, step by careful step, and nurture with her own courage, kindness, and attention. The thought settled softly in her mind, like a pebble dropped into the river, sending concentric ripples outward.

Hazel inhaled the crisp, earthy scent of the riverbank—the damp mud, the fresh water, the subtle sweetness of nearby wildflowers—and exhaled slowly, letting her heart catch even the smallest hint of possibility. With a careful lift of her stubby legs, she felt the familiar squish of mud beneath her hooves, the river brushing against her ankles, and a small, steady pulse of determination in her chest. She didn’t know where her search for happiness would lead, or how long it might take, but she could feel the first flicker of a promise: that joy might still be waiting for her, just around the bend, in the shimmer of water, the warmth of the sun, or the laughter of friends.

And with that tiny, fragile spark of hope, Hazel lifted her head higher, her amber eyes catching the sunlight, and took a small, careful step forward along the riverbank, ready to see what the day might bring.

She rested her chin in the cool water, letting the gentle current swirl and lap against her round cheeks, sending tiny shivers through her stubby legs. The water reflected the morning sunlight in rippling patterns, and her reflection wobbled and shimmered with every subtle wave—a distorted, dancing version of herself that seemed both familiar and strange. Hazel watched the play of light and shadow on the water, the flickering rainbows that cast tiny colors across her stubby ears and thick, round back. Everything looked beautiful, yet somehow, it felt distant, like a painting she could admire but not step into.

The soft rustle of the reeds nearby carried a faint whisper, and the gentle buzz of insects hummed through the warm morning air. Hazel could hear the river’s constant murmur, steady and soothing, yet it seemed to flow around her rather than through her, a quiet reminder that life went on, whether she felt happy or not. She wondered if happiness had decided to drift far away, floating upstream beyond her reach, leaving her behind in a world that shimmered with beauty but felt hollow inside.

She poked at the muddy riverbank with her hoof, feeling the squishy, cool earth give way beneath her weight. The mud smelled earthy and fresh, carrying hints of river water, fallen leaves, and hidden blooms from the forest beyond. Hazel sniffed deeply, inhaling the familiar scents, and yet even the comforting aromas failed to chase away the ache in her chest.

A soft breeze ruffled her thick, rounded ears, and she closed her eyes for a moment, listening: the gentle lapping of water, the whispering reeds, the distant chirping of birds waking in the trees. Even amidst the beauty, Hazel felt a tug of longing she could not explain. It was as though happiness was not just a thing to stumble upon in the bright sunlight or the sparkling river—it was something subtler, something hidden in the spaces between moments, something she might have to search for, step by careful step, to truly find.

Opening her eyes again, Hazel gazed down at the small ripples spreading across the water, catching light like scattered diamonds. Her heart still felt heavy, yet the smallest flicker of hope stirred inside her, a quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, she could find it. Happiness, she realized, might not be a sudden burst of laughter or a fleeting moment of fun—it might be a gentle current, waiting to carry her forward, if she could learn how to follow it.

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the crisp morning air, rich with the scent of wet earth, the sweetness of wildflowers, and the clean freshness of the river itself. She tried to breathe in joy the same way she breathed in the breeze countless times before—deep and slow, as if she could fill her lungs with happiness itself—but the familiar comfort felt just out of reach, like sunlight behind a cloud.

Hazel’s eyes followed a dragonfly skimming across the water, its wings catching the sun in a fleeting glitter of blues and greens. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Her mind wandered to the moments she had cherished before, little fragments of joy that had once lit her heart like fireflies in the night. She remembered Sunny the Kingfisher’s playful splashes, droplets flying like tiny jewels in the air and laughter bubbling from deep inside. She thought of Benny the Beetle’s tiny fiddle tunes, twanging and twirling in the sun, filling the meadow with music that made her giggle and sway. She pictured Penny the Parrot’s shimmering bubbles, floating and popping, carrying giggles, sparkles, and a lightness she had never felt in her chest before. She recalled the muddy, squishy fun of mud pies with her friends, and the ringing laughter that once made the riverbank echo with joy.