Sunday, June 19, 2011

Storytime - chapter 1

Mr. Davis blew out his candles and weakly smiled as the other residents stood by and clapped their feeble, unenthusiastic hands. "Mr. Davis" said one of the nurses "aren't you proud that you're ninety years old today?" Mr. Davis didn't respond. Instead he stood up and slowly shuffled back to his room. He pulled out a shoebox from underneath his bed and opened it up. The glass bottle he held shone a bright green light - he knew they wouldn't let him die until he had done what they had asked. Mr. Davis wasn't 90, he was 120 years old and still waiting for the right person to deliver the package to. He had been too choosy he realized. He was tired and ready for the end - now he resolved that good or bad, he would give it to the next person who walked into his room. Suddenly he heard a knock at his door.