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The Patient Deliverer This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   I had told him I would wait all day, but as thefriction between the smooth, pebbly sea wall and the backs of my sunburned knees begins to sting, I wonderwhy. Why do my eyes pop open when the night is barely over? In the darkness of each summer morning, Iawake and struggle to remember where I fell asleep. I dress in breeze-softened cotton and trek across sixmiles of rocky beach road that feel like a thousand to my old feet. I walk the miles every morning just tosee him. If I ever decided not to go, not to see him, my day would never begin; the children's breakfastwould never leave the ice box; the alarm clock would only ring out to a deafened silence; the world wouldforget to spin. I do it, just because I see him. This morning, I am early. I perch on my spot and eat a waxyapple. Just when I think he will never come and my day will remain in darkness on that wall, I feel him. Hestarts toward me slowly at first, then faster, running across the world as he senses how much I need totouch his face this morning. Then, in an exhilarating rush, he is there! With a smile I climb down from theweathered wall, embrace him and invite him to walk me home. As I turn to go, a cheerful jogger pipes up,"Beautiful sunrise this morning!"

"Yes," I say. "I thought he wouldnever come."




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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