Text Me?

September 10, 2011
By Radiius BRONZE, Golden, Colorado
Radiius BRONZE, Golden, Colorado
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

A silent bolt of lightning danced across the sky, the roar of thunder chasing after it. Rain ran from the scene, dropping to the ground, hiding away in gutters and on grass. I stared, searching for a familiar soul amongst the chaos of the sky. You had joined it five years ago, leaving the hard life of Earth to frolic in the clouds. Myself? I stayed, deciding to look after everything here.
"You know," I said to you, brushing the wet hair off my face, "you forgot your cell phone. Down here on Earth. You should come get it so you can text me from heaven."
But you must've been busy, because I stood for two and a half hours in the rain, waiting for you to pick it up. Maybe you were on a date with a hot chick in heaven, I don't know.
I watched more lighting fly across the sky and go right back. Were you trying to hit people you didn't like? Good luck with that, everyone's inside.
"So," I told you, "it's getting late. I should be getting home. Don't worry, I'll keep your phone in a safe place. You can come pick it up whenever you want to."

And then you can tell me all about heaven.

The author's comments:
For a friend, Zach, who died of cancer six years ago.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer

Wellesley Summer