The writer and the wiseman.

"Why do angels play harp?" The wiseman asked the writer. "I don't know." he responded.

"Can't you use your mind and think, you're a writer, right?" The man asked once more.

"I'm not as wise as you are, I just write because I want to express myself, when my head is bursting with ideas I just want to put that in a piece of paper before it explodes, give my pen a life and let the ink flow with the rivers of words, seas of phrases and oceans of paragraphs. Can you hear it, sir?" The boy asks the old man.

"Hear what?"

"The angels are laughing."

The writer's answer did not amuse the wise man, "I'm not crazy my little friend!" he cried out.

"Hear them play the harp, some of them are even holding trumpets!"

"This is madness!"

"No, this is fiction, angels play the harp because they want to show their emotions through music, can't you hear them? That's what they want to do... that's how I made them."

"Then why do you write?"

"I write because I want to, like you, you always think as if it's one of your basic physiologic needs." He answered, smiling.