|Sir, Could You Tell Me If These Texts Go To Heaven?
Author: Seer of the Worlds PM
A collection of overlapping texts from different people leave a little boy sorry for them, whoever they were. And he tries to make it better.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort - Words: 436 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 10-02-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3062683
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Mary, please tell me your opinion on this situation.
DJ just broke up with me, I thought we had something going.
Just now I figured out Jenny got pregnant with his baby.
Yeah, I know it sucks. I wish someone would help me.
It's sad right? I didn't know anything until her stomach got bigger by day.
I know you feel sorry for me. I've heard it a million times. Does a hot shower work?
It's making me sick now. I really thought I liked him. Apparently he liked her instead.
No? What about chocolate?
Yeah, I know. Why am I talking about such things? Well it's not like I can talk about me just getting a raise or anything. My house isn't paid off either.
I have money. I could get over this.
What should I do?
I think I've already told you this…but what should I do?
How could I possibly forget about it? He basically ripped me in two.
Yeah right, like talking about another guy will help this thing.
You want me to go to a club? No way! That's just setting me up for disaster!
Pfft. He's DJ's best friend you idiot.
I think I'll try to listen to music like you said. It might help me get over this…
Maybe I'll just go write my whole drastic life story and share it with everyone.
That's a good idea, I'll try that.
You want me to pray?
I'll pray then.
And the little rich boy who got the phone who had overlapping numbers wondered about something and then felt sad. He went up to the little boy who was huddled against the wall, wearing rags and a newsboy cap. Dirt was layered on him. The rich boy held out his washed hand and held out the shiny blue phone. It was worth little to him but more to the other boy. "Sir," the rich boy said feeling the need to be formal even if he was a kid, "could you tell me if these texts go to heaven?" The poor boy looked at the rich boy and smiled slightly.
"They might," he said. "It depends on what they say." The rich boy smiled widely.
"Then could you deliver this to the right person at the right time?" The rich boy still had the phone in his hand.
"I could." He took it from the rich boy's hand.
"Thank you." The other boy said smiling while closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them the boy had run off already. A pure white feather was on the ground.