An original work of fiction…
“Mom, I want blueberry,” Tara reiterated, just in case her mother hadn’t heard her the first three times.
“Okay, Honey, just a minute…”
Tara’s mother was ordering bagels for herself and for her six-year-old daughter. It was a very cold Saturday morning and the two of them were shopping for a new pair of shoes for Tara’s dance recital in three weeks.
“Can we sit here?” Tara asked, obviously interested in something outside of the large window by the entrance.
“Of course,” her mother answered as she carried their bagels to the table where Tara had already seated herself.
The young nursing assistant entered Charlie Talbot’s room with a smile and asked, “How are you feeling today, Mr. Talbot?” She was carrying a lunch tray and as she sat it on the stand next to his bed continued, “Are you comfortable?”
“You’re gonna kill me with that hospital food before I die from this tumor,” he retorted, only half kidding.
“Oh, Mr. Talbot,” she responded with mock indignation. “The food’s not that bad. I eat it myself every day and I’ve been here for seven years, so you’ll be okay.”
Working for hospice required a special sort of disposition – the sort that very few people possessed. But Andrea loved her job and she loved every one of the patients under her care. Mr. Talbot was actually very nice, but he had his moments. She knew that when she passed through in another hour or so, he’d be smiling and joking with her like usual. Deep down, he was a nice man.
Sitting on a park bench just outside of the city, Avis contemplated his situation. The weather had been extremely cold lately and with the snow cover, he hadn’t eaten for three days. The constant exposure to the elements, along with a lack of food, had taken its toll on his body. He was exhausted and scared and knew that if one of the city’s raptors came after him, he wouldn’t have the strength needed to flee.
“Good morning, my friend,” the angel said, appearing from out of nowhere.
Although frightened, Avis knew immediately that he was in the presence of someone of heavenly origin. Bowing before the angel he answered, “My master, to what do I owe this honor?
“Fear not, my friend,” Nachor replied, “I have been sent by our Lord, the God of heaven and earth – creator of both you and I…”
“God sent you to me?” Avis answered incredulously. “But I’m just a crow! Why would our Lord send an angel to me?” Continue reading