Three Minutes

March 7, 2013 § Leave a comment

The boy had been tucked in and his father was about to depart his bedroom.

“Wait”, he says, “what about my story?”

The man smiled thinking he almost got away for the evening.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Three-minutes!” The boy voiced with excitement.

“Not that old story.”

The man looked at the unrelenting face of the boy and made himself comfortable at his bedside. And so, the man began.

One afternoon, a very beautiful afternoon, a man decided to take a run. He made this run several times before, mind you, and it seemed nothing different. Outside, the concrete wasn’t hotter, the neighbors were no more a bother and the sounds seemed never softer. The world, as far as the man knew, was still spinning. He tightened his laces, did his funny stretching routine and began his jog. He ran the first leg,  nothing out of the ordinary there; turned and ran another, taking notice of everything in its natural order. When he reached the park, again, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Finally, as he got to the entrance of the park, passing the statue of the fallen firefighter surrounded by a sea of daffodils, he saw it. The world had suddenly stopped. Nothing appeared to move. Now, as you can imagine the man was in shock. He looked around and saw a woman and her dog but they were frozen; frozen in time one would say. The trees stopped swaying, the birds quit singing, and the world quit spinning. Again, he looked around but this time he saw, ahead in the thicket of trees, a little spec of bright light. Curious enough, he shuffled towards it. It felt right to the man to move towards it. As he got closer the light became warmer. A few more paces and the light became warmer still and this time larger in diameter. In fact, it became too hot that it almost felt as though it was burning him. He shuttered and began to retreat but it was too late. The light became larger and unbearably warmer that he felt a sort of pain but not like any ordinary pain; it was a beautiful pain. The light had been drawing him in but he couldn’t move, his feet and legs and arms were motionless. He tried with all his strength to resist the pull of the burning light when all of a sudden an angel appeared. The Angel then suddenly began to reach out its hand. The man knew to accept but before he was able to, it happened. The man woke up.

Your mother had been trying to resuscitate me for three minutes. I slipped on the stoned, stairway and was knocked unconscious. If she hadn’t come to plant the daffodils at your grandfathers statue, I would have been dead. She saved my life and we made yours.

The End.

Now go to bed!

Advertisements

Tagged: , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Three Minutes at francis november.

meta

%d bloggers like this: