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// Sunday, December 28, 2014

A Letter, of Sorts 2

Dear God,

I know there are no extra heartbeats in a life.

No spare minutes.

No catch-up days.

And I know that the phrase, "there's always tomorrow," is a hopeful lie, because there's only the ever present now and the inevitable final curtain.

But if there were extra heartbeats, spare minutes, catch-up days, and a promise that tomorrow will come, then I'd gladly give some of mine to one other, so that we—two ends of a line—could spend more time together... somewhere in the middle.

Eternally grateful, and still hoping against hope,

Your Wondering Son

Copyright 2014 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, contexts, scenes, scenarios, symbols, glyphs, iconography, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.