short stories

Two.

“Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake I thank the Lord for strawberry shortcake. I mean damn I outdid myself today! And I am so very grateful because it was your grace that carried the ingredients in the right proportions and kept my timer in working order! But I digress. Today was a hard day for an old lady. No harder than to be expected of an old lady my age, I guess. For that I’m grateful. But I just have so many questions. Like how do you pick who gets diabetes? My neighbor’s son just got diagnosed with diabetes and somehow I just think that’s damn unfair. Damn unfair…I miss when it was only for the old people. I mean after a certain age everyone dreads the things to come, but when you’re young and full of life you ought to have the chance to really enjoy it, ya know? Seems a shame Little Dave can’t eat my strawberry shortcake without risking a convulsion or whatever it is that makes diabetics avoid my sweets like the plague. And why can’t we ship all this excess food and all this clean water to Africa-or at least water filters for heaven’s sake. I’m sorry to be getting a bit huffy with you Lord, I just don’t get why a big, old body of salt water and some desert like conditions has to separate the spoiled little brats from the dirty water drinks. No…that’s not right. Someone at least save us from the sight of emaciated little African boys and girls struggling down long winding roads to get a gulp of mud water and skipping out on their education. Lord I’m tired. And since I’ve got no little babies to pray for I’m gonna haul on out of here. But seriously, thank you for that shortcake. Mmm mmm mm.”

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