A Soldier Departed

February 20, 2013

As the Creator whispered into the young man’s battleworn heart, “You fought with honor,” the young man closed his eyes. “You served with valor,” the Commander continued. The young man’s breathing slowed to a mere whisper fleeing steadfast into the forthcoming wind, fading into oblivion until it could be felt no more. “Your service is over, soldier.” Slowly, the young man’s heart beat to the sound of a fatigued drummer’s final murmur that chased his breath to a land where the final utterances of the dying go on to live for the rest of eternity. “Go home.” And with that, the young man died. The young soldier parted onward to another world, a better world, from a hospital bed, connected to the many machines that beeped and booped the thematic of his departure. The young man passed through the doorway of eternity surrounded by angels, soaked in the love that poured from their eyes. The curtains fell as the final act of the performance came to a finish; the story, an end.

The world turned as it always had up to that moment, impervious to the death of a single human being. It seemed the world would continue to turn as it always had and always would, all but in the hearts of the lives a young soldier had wandered into and wandered out of with only footprints in the sand to remind them that he had once stood there. He had once loved there. With his footprints compressed into the sand, it was almost as if the tides of time had never washed him away. Where the young man’s footprints lay engraved in the sand, his love would stand against all tides forever and for always.


I met a girl with a familiar face. I knew I had seen her somewhere else before, but where, I just could not place my finger on it. Then it hit me! This girl, she was the girl from a dream I had some nights ago. A dream I could barely remember, but her face, I could not forget.

The dream, it was one of those dreams so beautiful and so otherworldly that waking up and realizing it was just that, a dream, was sobering and cruel. Why couldn’t such a dream be reality?

How could I have dreamed of a girl I had never known until now?

Street Missionary

February 10, 2013

I took a visit to the ER last night. I was hit by a car the night before and wanted to make sure I’m alright. I’m a little sore, but okay.

I saw a pregnant woman crying in the waiting room. Not one to mind my own business, I approached her with my pen and pad. “What’s wrong, hun?” I scribed.

In that small piece of time, I single handedly broke down the wall between silence and sound; deaf and hearing. I did what I couldn’t and by the time I had left, her tears had become smiles.

I had won over deafness and reached over the borders of ability to touch another life.

I won. . .

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