Good night, fellow adventurer in this life. May our sweet Father wrap you in a hammock of comfort and protection. The songs He hums over you are like none other, for you are unique. He will call you a name that’s special for you alone. Let His words caress your cheek tenderly and powerfully. When the stars start to cry, you'll catch their tears and turn them into colorful gems for all the treasure chests around the world. Beaming faces will glow on and on and on… Let the wind wipe away the toil and sweat forevermore from your beautiful brow. There is a new chapter ahead tomorrow.
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. Aspiring licensed mental health counselor. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson6 days ago in Fiction
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