Davian’s words echo through my mind. “I’m not abandoning you.”

His face looked so broken when he told me that he killed my mom. He didn’t mean for this to happen. For us to fall for each other.

I know he didn’t mean for my mom to die. Because I know the real Davian, and I’m in love with him.

I pinch my hand, my heart racing a million miles a second. After Davian pushed me out of the way, after he saved me. The ceiling caved in. I close my eyes trying to forget the terrible momet. But all it does is bring it back to life.

I land hard on the cold cement just outside of the burning building. I cough, lifting my head up just as a huge crash echos through my mind.

“Davian,” I mumble, coughing as I stumble to my feet. My throat burns as I limp back to the building.

The first thing I see when I re-enter is Davian. He’s on the ground, piled on top of him is burning wood.

I gasp. “Davian!” I scream, running up to him.

Before I can get to him the ceiling falls in front of me. Knocking me down.

I brush my blonde hair out of my face, coughing as smoke and dust swirl around me.

“No!” I cry. “No! Davian!”

I feel lost, so lost. The entrace out of this place is right behind me. Calling to me. But my life isn’t out there. It’s in here, it’s Davian.

A siren sings through the dark night, the bright red lights shining through the broken windows.

I stand up, running through the pain in my leg. “Help!” I scream. “Please!”

A nurse runs up to me, holding my shoulders as three firefighters run into the the building.

“He’s still in there!” I sob, tears springing into my eyes.

The nurse leads me away from the fire, her strong arms holding me up as I stumble along with her.

I blink and it’s gone. The fire, the ambulance. And now I’m here. My ankel is sprained but the doctor said I was going to be fine. I was discharged from the hospital just a few hours ago.

I’ve been waiting here. Waiting for Davian to come out of those swinging doors and hold me in his arms. He’ll tell me he’s fine, and then he’ll say if I never want to see him again he’ll understand.

I’ll shake my head, pulling him close. Then he’ll pull away from me, bringing his lips to mine.

“Excuse me?” My eyes fly up from my lap. A man probably around his late fourties stares down at me.

“Are you waiting for someone?” He asks.

I look at the brown clipbaord thats tucked under his arm. I’ve always wondered what they write on those.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m just waiting for Davian . . . Davian Chase.”

The doctor nods. “Oh,” he replies. “Are you family?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He nods again. “I can’t give any information out to non-family members.”

I know this. Hospitals aren’t a huge mystery to me. “I know.” I whisper.

Again the doctors head goes up and down. He reaches up to scratch his neck as the doors swing open.

I turn, everything feeling so much better when Sammy’s eyes meet mine.

“Maisie!” She gasps, running up to us. She wraps me in a warm hug. “Oh sweetie.” She mutters under her breath.

The doctor clears his throat. “Are you a family member of Davain—“

“Yes,” Sammy cuts him off. “Is he okay?”

The doctor sits down in the chair across from me. “We’re not sure.”

Sammy sits next to me, her hazel eyes glued on the floor. “What happened?”

“There’s no way to sugar coat this,” the doctor says. “Davian’s spine is shattered. We can’t repair it.”

Sammy loosk up. “Can’t you try?”

“If we operate we’ll risk losing him.”

Sammy wipes a tear from her rosy cheek. “If you don’t you’ll risk losing him too.”

The doctor sighs. “There’s nothing we can do.” He looks down at the tiled floor. “We’ve got him on some pain medication. We’re going to keep him comfortable. It’s all we can do at this point.”

Keep him comfortable? NO! I can’t lose him!

Not now, not after everything we’ve been through. He can’t die thinking I hate him for what happened to my mom.

I rise to my feet. “I need to see him,” I say.

The doctor stands. “He’s unconscious.”

I look into the doctors green eyes. “I need to see him.” I repeat.

He doesn’t argue, he just leads the way. Sammy stays behind, as we leave I can hear her quiet sobs echoing behind us.

(I’ll probably make more small moments before the real ending of their story. I just got the idea so I thought I’d go with it)

To Be Continued . . .

Selander tapped his fingers against his knees, impatient. It was rare that he was waiting for things, and even rarer that he should have to sit in such an uninspired location.

Here, the sky was overcast, what little breeze there was carried with it the cloying stench of pollen. And the wooden slats of the bench were so carelessly laid so that no matter how Selander squirmed, he couldn’t get comfortable.

And then, of course, it began to rain.

Selander drew his cloak tighter with a curse, for all the good it did him. Why anyone would place a single bench, out from under the cover of foliage when there was more than enough in the park, was beyond him.

But it was essential he didn’t lose his seat.

“Excuse me,” the voice was cold. “May I join you?”

Selander didn’t reply, hoping the bot would just leave him alone.

“May I join you?” the bot repeated, its monotone voice growing all the more insistent.

“No,” Selander snapped, “you may not.” He crossed his arms over his chest for good measure.

There were a few moments where all Selander could hear was the buzz and whir of the boy’s cogs as it processed his reply. Then it seemed to reach a conclusion.

“Anti-social behaviour will not be tolerated.” With that, the bot pushed Selander off the bench in one neat motion.

He’d barely hit the ground before the simulation stopped - the rain frozen in fat drops, never to hit the ground, the leaves of the trees frozen mid-breeze.

Selander huffed and climbed to his feet, his worst fears confirmed.

Someone had hacked the game.

The room was quite full. I look around at the different walls and notice one is painted a lime green while the other is a bright white. Such an odd pairing for a waiting room in my opinion. But then again I’m not entitled to one. I continue to examine the room cause there’s not much else to do. The floor is half carpeted and half wood. There’s fake plants in every corner. And every patient in here is looking very zombie like. Not a joyous person in sight.

 All of them are wondering and waiting when their turn will come. The moment they’re chosen to dance with the devil in the back. 

 The other question on their mind is when or how much blood will be taken. How much will they have to sacrifice in order to have their freedom back into the world. 

  How greedy these Vampires can be. We humans have to make these appointments each month just to do our part in serving the Vampire community. If we don’t, we face the ultimate punishment, DEATH. At this point I choose the latter.

I try to picture myself like her; a gentle song rolling off of her tongue and a soft glow in her tired eyes. Pulling all the strands of her neglected hair into a bun plopped atop her head. It feels like we are in completely different worlds. I try to fathom the graciousness, the benevolence, how she became so utterly meek. Not once have I felt a pull to become like her, for I have not a docile bone in my body. Yet, here I sit in the room full of women all bearing the same fate. All to sing the same tunes, and rock in the same motion through the once quiet hours of the night. Will these same women look at me the same if I choose a different fate? A fate of different tunes and different motions through the night. Will I be met with the same soft eyes and gentle smiles when I walk back out into this room? I contemplate this as the kindly woman moves her belongings for me to take a seat beside her. She utters words to me about showers and sprinkles, the paint color of her nursery. As I sink in my seat and dissociate from the bland pleasantries, I begin to experience in full the gravity of my situation. The heaviness of the impact my choice feels overbearing, and I suffocate in my grief for just a brief moment. When I hear my name muttered and I rise to walk through the door, I feel all that weight suddenly lifted, knowing I will never choose to dim my flame. For showers, sprinkles, and periwinkle walls were never made for me. My story will not start or cease in the confines of these waiting room walls.

A lone,man waits cut off from the world.cold concrete cell looked on in the horizon.a glass pane spans the room,the man stoop staring in to a deep blue cosmos as countless stars moved drifted on Lazily from left to right,”at least I’m moving the man thought.

He’s clothes had changed.as for when that he can not tell you from the stark green jumpsuit and the id badge to a clean,white tracksuit no pockets sadly and no hood instead it fit snuggly to the mans neck

He didn’t know how long it’s been it was 1:30 when he blinked to he’s new surroundings.fear warped the mans heart. Everything just happened so fast he noticed he stood like a guard or a mannequin affixed to the spot.the view helped past the time tho

A number was displayed near the top of the wall,and a bed a sink sat with in walking distance.the sink solid metal and cold to the touch With a small petal nearby to the floor.steps on the petal starting the water flow

The bed on the other hand exceedingly bare a lone mattress and wooden bed frame.

The numbers three stood side by side each of them danced and shifted in the light of the cosmos

The man didn’t know what would happen if he got to his mysterious destination but a new book lay under the bed when he finished one

The need for certain processes and need for them never came up as the man stood

No need for food not even the need for a restroom so he just waited reading book for what seemed forever

But nothing really changes just the flow of time and space reading and water.the flow of time was almost peaceful.disorienting yet clarity

Yet the man waited on

Stephen walked into the doctors office feeling tired and all alone. He approached the receptionist desk with his head hung low. “How are you feeling Mr Aquino?” Susan asked behind her big desk. “Day by day Sue Day by Day.” Susan looked at her screen then looked up “ just have a seat please, Dr Cronin is running a little late but you are next.”

     Stephen took a deep breath as he entered the waiting room. He was tired from the walk.

It was a good size waiting room as far as waiting rooms go. Stephen wondered why his doctor requires such a big room. Stephen never saw more then 3 people in this room. He decided to sit by the restroom door. After he sat down he noticed another man sitting across from him reading a magazine. He looked around and saw that it was quite except for the fish tank in the corner. Then closed his eyes to rest.

      After a couple of minutes he was awoke by a man’s voice “excuse me sir? sir?” Stephen opened his eyes to see the man who was sitting across from him.  “Excuse me sir? Your phone fell out of your pocket I didn’t want you to lose it.” The man said with a kind smile. Stephen smiled back with thanks. “ My name is Brain nice to meet you.” With that they shook hands and Brian sat next to Stephen.

They became friends quickly and were talking like old friends do. Brian went on to tell Stephen that he is an EMT for Boston fire department. He also mentioned he was a father of two twin boys who want to grow up like daddy. “You don’t look so good Stephen may I ask what’s wrong. I only ask because I’m a medical professional and I’m concerned.”  

    Stephen didn’t like talking of his condition to anyone but he felt like this guy wasn’t looking to be harmful. So today he made an exception.

“Well Brain I developed a rare cancer in my liver. After a year of tests and appointments and sick days I’m jobless and dying. They tried to give me hope over this year. But they only solution is a transplant.” Stephen needed to take a few breaths, he did not want to cry in front of this man. Brian put his hand of his shoulder. “I’m here today because this is it. I’m going in and telling him I’m done. No more medicine or endless appointments. I’m all done being a burden on my family “

           That was all it took poor Stephen to break down. His walls crumbled into his troubled waters. Brian got up and hugged him as tight as he could. He was trying to take this man’s sadness away. Then Brain whispered in his ear

“Stephen my children tell me I must be a hero even when I’m scared because there’s other people who are more scared then me. And it’s only when we become heroic are we able to move mountains. Stephen you need to be your own hero. You must fight although you are scared. Your family needs their hero to come home again!!”

      Stephen stood up and thanked Brian with all his heart and soul. He has been hiding these feelings for over a year. They were chewing at his hopes. He felt the best he’s felt in quite along time. “Excuse me Brian I must freshen up my eyes.” Brain nodded his approval. With that Stephen walked slowly to the restroom door.


     After a nice face wash with cold water from the sink Stephen paused to think….maybe Brian is right I’m going to keep up my fight and my hopes. My family needs me to be better. Stephen opened the door to find the waiting room empty. He was disappointed to find Brain gone. “Mr Aquino the doctor is ready for you”

He heard the nurse chime out.

   “Mr Aquino please have a seat. “ the doctor started, “I know the last time we spoke things were not going the way we wanted. But today I have good news for you we found you a donor!”

Stephen’s ears could not believe this news. Just yesterday he thought he was a dead man! His hope was rushing back like a tsunami. “There’s an ambulance on the way now to pick you up you are a very lucky man Mr. Aquino.”

      Stephen looked at the doctor with his heart beating out his chest. “ Doctor, then man who was in the waiting room was an absolute Angel to me. He was the kindness man. Do you know him?” The doctor was a bit confused by the old man’s “There’s wasn’t anyone in the waiting room with you sir. You are my last patient of the day. Can you describe him?”

        Stephen continued “ His name was Brian. Young man in his early 30s. He was an EMT for Boston fire.”  That’s when Stephen noticed the doctor scramble on his keyboard. The doctor stopped and stared at the screen with his mouth agape. 

     The door flew open before the doctor could say a word. It was the Paramedics. They said the patient passed away 10 minutes ago so they had to take Stephen immediately. After they whisked him out the door the doctor stared at the screen….it showed the donor info. Brain Cunio

32 year old male. occupation:firefighter Survived by a wife and 2 five year old children. The doctor wept…….

Me and your mom wait in the waiting room at the hospital. Waiting for the doctors to tell us about you. Me and your mom are hoping you will be ok.

The doctor finally comes out your mom is a mess. She has been crying. The doctor says I’m sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think she’s going to live. At this point your mom is hysterical. I hold her tight trying to soothe her. And trying to keep my emotions in check. I can’t fall apart as well.

So for three days they didn’t do anything for you. Because they figured you were going to die anyway. So why try anything? But by the third day your mom begged the doctors to do something. You were still alive.

So finally they did surgery. But because we waited so long the damage has been done. That meant you lost a lot of things. That might’ve been able to be avoided. If only the doctors would’ve done something sooner.

One of those things was your vision. You were blind. But we were not sure how much. You had to learn how to speak. How to walk again. How to be able to feed your self. The doctors did say, that if you lived you would not be able to do anything for yourself. For the rest of your life.

It was quite a struggle and a challenge for all of us. It was a challenge for you. It’s a challenge for your mom. She had to carry you everywhere. It was a challenge for me. Watching you struggle and suffer. Watching your mom suffer with you. But I felt like I had to hold the fort down.

But now look at you! You are an amazing miracle child. You are living life to the fullest. Nothing stops you. You can do things for yourself. You have done more than the doctor said he would be able to.

You are always smiling. Finding the good in everything. Encouraging others with words or without. Your actions themselves encourage others. More than you think.

I don’t really know if this is exactly what went through my parents minds. But I’m sure it’s close. I honestly don’t remember hardly any of it. I was so young when this all happened.

It is true I am able to do just about everything that a sighted person does. With a few accommodations. But nothing is impossible.

I didn’t lose all my vision. I still have a little bit. But I have learned not to rely on it. It’s not very reliable! So I use my other senses instead. And use technology. Once in a while ask for help.

I still go through challenges now. But I have learned how to cope with them. I have been able to adapt to things. I guess when you’ve had as many years as I have been blind you learn how to do things.

So this is just part of my life story. In a not shell. I never thought I would be telling this story. Just from a writing prompt.

“No No, this is heaven. We are not going to take your device away,” said the cute little cherub-like angel as she handed me back my phone. “The only thing is, up here your phone has only one app, everyone loves it. In fact, the other heavenly souls spend so much time ‘on’ this app that some of us think the whole thing is just a bad idea. But, no worries, the app is already installed on your phone and it is ready to go.”

“OK,” I replied, “what is it called and how do I use it?”

“Well, it’s called ‘The Watchtower’ and it’s at the very top left of your new Home Screen. I hope you won’t think that I have the sin of Pride if I tell you that the Watchtower name and the associated icon are my creations. My design was chosen by La Jefa personally from the muchos entries.”

“Congratulations!” I said, trying, without much success, to sound genuinely enthusiastic. In my defense, I had only realized I was dead a few hours before this orientation appointment started. “You must be . . . not proud, but -you know- you must feel pretty good about that, winning the competition. And I do find the icon attractive . . . what is that, it looks kinda like a lifeguard’s station?”

“Yes, exactly!” The cherub-angel interrupted with a smile. “That was my idea; after all, who doesn’t like the beach? I figured even La Hefa would like that kind of an image.” “So,” I continued, “how does the app work?”

“Well -you’re gonna love this- the Watchtower app allows you to watch over your loved ones. All you have to do is tap on the app and it opens to a live cam view of your most immediate next-of-kin. You can see where they are, who they are with, what they are doing. Check up on them or ‘watch over them,’ so to speak. Get it? Watch over them from your ‘Watchtower;’ isn’t that just too cool?”

“Wow! Can they see me? Do they know I am watching? Can I talk with them?” “Oh no, señor,” it said quickly and firmly. “Can’t have you interfering with their free will, can we? Nope, not on your life! But you can watch what they are doing all day long, every day of your. . . .well, not everyday of your life since yours has already expired, hasn’t it? But, certainly, everyday of their lives.”

“Everyone here loves it,” she continued, “and everyone uses it todos los dias!” “OK,” I said, “I’ll be sure to check it out as soon as I can. Anything else I need to know?” “Don’t think so,” she said as she got up and floated toward the door. “Let’s see, we covered the do’s and don’ts, we talked about the dress code, we discussed personal hygiene, I gave you your place’s address and how to get there, I issued you your uniform, and we did the app. Nope, I guess you are free to go . . . Well, not actually free to go, I mean you can’t ever leave here and you are not really ‘free’ in any significant way. What I mean is that your first orientation session is over. Any preguntas?”

“Nope,“ I said. “Well, to be honest, I have a lot of questions but I don’t think they’re the sort of questions you can answer. So, I guess I am finished . . .opps! Bad choice of words, I mean that I am ready to get out there.”

“OK, adios,” she said, opening the door and showing me out. Leaving the orientation room, I walked out into a beautiful open space with great flowering trees, apple trees I think, and bright green grass, all shining in what appeared to be an unusually clear golden light. It was kinda like a big, beautiful park. This “park” was bisected by a river with very transparent water. And, all the other souls I could see —whether alone or standing together in small groups— were looking down at their hands holding their phones. I was amazed to see this since the place was so damn beautiful, with what looked like gold streets and bejeweled buildings.

I quietly walked over to one guy quietly and stealthily looked over his shoulder. He was on the Watchtower app watching a group of kids playing together in a park. It looked like they were having fun. The man watching them was smiling broadly and there were tears running down his face.

“Family?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, looking up at me and wiping a tear away, “my kids and their friends playing in the local park. It is so great to be able to see them and know that they are all right.”

“I can imagine, “ I replied. “I am new here, but I can’t wait to use the app and see how my loved ones are doing. It must be so nice to know everything is OK.”

“Yes, it is. My name is Todd, and I’ve been here -it seems, anyhow- for an eternity. The great thing about the Watchtower for me is that I have been able to watch my children grow even though I am quite surely dead and not there.”

“Sure, I can understand that. Well, I certainly don’t want to take you away from that so I’ll be off. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

“Yep. Bye.” He said as he returned to his phone.

Walking around my new home observing my new comrades I noticed that although many of the souls that I could see were looking at their phones, no one was using head sets or ear buds. The only explanation I could think of was that the app must not have any sound capability. Soon enough my stroll brought me up against a big wall lined with cement benches. And most of the souls on these benches, too, were looking down at their phones.

Standing there I glanced at the time on my phone — 4 o’clock, still an hour or so before I have to report to the Ruby Building to get into my place assignment. As I looked around I spied an empty bench to my left. I walked over and sat down. I had a lot to think about: how I died and, of course, how I lived; what would this heavenly place would be like; why was I born; what is there to do here; is it going to be as boring as church was? I pondered question after question but I could not come up with any answers. So, I did what I always do when I am thinking about a question and do not have the answer. I started to take out my phone and look for an answer on the internet. “Well, that’s stupid,” I said to myself “I am dead, this is heaven, and they just told me that my phone doesn’t work here.” Then, I remembered the whole “Watchtower” thing and so I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone. I turned it on and looked at the screen. A comfortable ritual like this helped me to feel a little more relaxed. I noted what was on my screen: the “Watchtower” app and nothing else. Disappointed, I slumped back into the bench and closed my eyes. Heaven, I thought, din’t offer any easy answers.

I had started to fall asleep in the warm golden light of heaven, when I somehow remembered that I had to go to my assigned place at 4 o’clock and that thought jerked me back awake. I quickly sat up straight, felt something fall off my lap, and then I heard the slap of metal on cement. I looked down and saw my phone, now with a thin diagonal crack across the front of the screen. “Shit,” I moaned to myself, “I wonder if I broke it?” I picked up the phone and pressed the home button. A lock screen appeared, asking me to input my personal passcode. I did so, encoding “JanBillHank” (for my wife and the twins), and thankfully the phone’s home screen appeared. But this time it looked somehow different. What was it? I saw the “Watchtower” app and decided to take a look.

I clicked on the “Watchtower” and settled back in the bench. In just a few seconds, there appeared Jan, my wife, and Bill and Hank, my two young sons. They looked good. It looked like they were doing school work. Jan was holding a book in her hands and reading and the twins both were writing in their notebooks. Every now and then they would talk to each other and then they would get back to work. I took a moment to look around me and saw the same scene as before: small groups of people standing or sitting together, looking down at their phones. Looking back down at the “Watchtower,” I saw that now Jan was watching TV and the kids were pestering her about something, probably some need or request. Suddenly she turned and said something harsh to them and they started to cry; next, they took to pushing and poking each other. I pressed the home button and looked up once again.

The air was still warm with that golden light. I wondered if it was always like that here and I glanced down at the phone in my lap, thinking I should “google” that and find out. Then, of course, I remember that there was no Google in heaven. Was there Google in hell? I could Goggle that but. . . . Slumping back against the bench, I sighed and closed my eyes. I started to fall asleep again, but suddenly I heard a loud voice which oddly sounded like a very loud buzzing. I opened my eyes and sat up quickly, but nothing around me had changed; no one else appeared startled or worried.

So, I picked up my phone again, put in the home screen code, and started to click on the “Watchtower” when I noticed something different on the screen.

Down in the lower right hand corner was a small curved arrow pointing to a very small TV screen with “Bored?” written across it. Wondering what that was, I returned to the “Watchtower,” clicked, and up popped my family again. They were eating dinner. Jan was serving the twins their plates, looked like hamburgers, home fries, and a salad. They were eating and talking.

You know, I always dreamed that the dead could see the living . . . as a kid, I wondered if my Grandparents could see me playing; as an adult, I sometimes fantasized that I could see my own funeral and watch my friends and families as they mournfully traded stories about what a great guy I was. Now I thought: “It’s true, the dead can see their loved ones as they go about everyday life. How wonderful, how exciting!”

Well, not exactly exciting. I mean they were just eating a meal and talking which was in fact pretty ordinary. Don’t get me wrong. I loved them all very much and I wished I could be there with them. But I wasn’t. I was up here in heaven watching them eat a meal and, not to be too harsh, that was . . . well, it was pretty boring.

The word “boring” brought to my mind the new icon I had seen down at the corner of my phone’s screen. I wondered what it was. I looked around me and the scene had not changed appreciably. The other souls were talking, walking, sitting, standing and looking down at their phones. Now and then, one would smile ruefully and point out something on the screen to another who would, in turn, smile supportively, and pat their comrade on the back. I figured they were using the “Watchtower.” Just another quiet day in Heaven, I guessed. So, I tapped the new icon.

Up popped what appeared to be list of subjects or categories. Stuff like “comedy clips,” “pets,” “dangerous arrests of drunk people,” “lovers loving,” “classic fails,” “cute kids being cute,” and the like. Looking around to see if I was being watched, I chose “dangerous arrests of drunk people.” Up popped a video of two cops wrestling with a young shirtless man on a street corner. They were attempting to cuff him and put him in their squad car but he was fighting and squirming around like a trapped snake. Everyone was breathless and everyone had a deep Southern accent. The action was fevered and, surprisingly, I was drawn into it. Against my better judgement, I found it very exciting and I could not stop watching it. In fact, I was so engaged with the thing I forgot where I was and began to actually react to it. When the cops finally successfully pushed the guy into their car, I pumped by fist and yelled “Yay.” Next, I tapped on “lovers loving” and there appeared on my phone some cheap, disgusting pornography. But I watched it and, despite its ugly physicality, I found myself getting turned on. I unthinkingly reached down and rubbed myself. Then, I jerked my hand away from my crotch thinking “God, man, you can’t have an erection in Heaven, not in public anyhow!”

I closed the app and went back to the “Watchtower.” Now, my wife was drinking what looked like a glass of red wine and the twins were not on the screen at all. She was drinking the wine and just staring off into the near distance. Probably thinking about me, I thought to myself, remembering what a great guy I was and all the wonderful times we had together. Then, she reached down to her lap with one hand and, I thought to myself “Oh God, she is going to masturbate to my memory.” But, instead, her hand came back up into view holding a piece of paper and a pencil. It was a crossword puzzle; she was doing a crossword puzzle. I watched her drink wine and do the puzzle for a minute or two and then, not able to stop myself, I closed the “Watchtower” and opened “Bored?”. The list of

subjects appeared and I clicked on “Classic Fails.” This time I laughed as I enthusiastically watched men of all ages crash, stumble, and fall in all kinds of situations.

Hearing myself giggle, I looked around guiltily: I worried that someone might notice me. Then, more seriously, I wondered “Am I the only person doing this?” “What are all these other people doing?” Are they looking at me?” “Is this wrong?” These videos were so much more interesting than the live cam feed of my family. Every time I tried the “Watchtower” to watch my loved ones do some everyday activity, I ended up switching to “Bored?” to see if anything funny or exciting was on.

After a while, I turned off the phone and walked to my new building. After checking into the residence, I went to bed . . .promising myself that tomorrow I would only use the “Watchtower.” I got up in the morning, ate breakfast, and went for a walk. Somehow, I ended up back at the same bench as yesterday. Again, it was an empty and it was surrounded by small groups of souls talking and just kinda “hanging out in heaven.” I sat down and watched them for a while; they seemed nice.

Before long, I took out my phone and looked down at it. My finger hovered over the “Watchtower” app, hesitating; and then, as it it had a mind of its own, clicked on “Bored?”. A hilarious video of a Dad trying to play catch with a pretty uncoordinated kid came up and I watched it several times . . .it was funny!

Suddenly, I realized I was laughing out loud! Leaving the video playing, I jerked my head up to see if anyone was watching me. It seemed like some were . . .but no one said anything or pointed at me. Still, I quickly closed the app and went over to the “Watchtower.” When I tapped on it up popped my family eating breakfast. It was a very loving scene . . . my wife serving the twins their oatmeal, sitting down with her coffee (black with sugar), and talking with them. I sure love my family. But, after a few minutes, my attention began to drift. After all, how many times had I seen this exact breakfast scene? So, of course, I went back to

the other app and soon was laughing out loud as a puppy tried to use its nose to wake up its owner. Funny!

Looking around me I noticed that a couple of female souls were walking toward my bench. They looked like they were going to sit down with me. I panicked. If they saw what I was doing, certainly they were think I was a terrible person and they might even report me to, well, to whomever one reports bad people to here in Heaven. Scared, I hurriedly moved to shove the phone into my pocket, but I missed the target and my phone bounced off the cement bench and fell to the ground. Just then, the two souls got to the bench and one of them leaned over and picked up the phone. Oh, God, would “Bored?” still be playing? What would she think? What would they do?

The helpful soul picked up the phone, hardly even glancing at it, and said “Gosh, so sorry,” as she handed it to me. I mumbled a quick “thank you” and pocketed the phone . . .successfully, this time. As the ladies were sitting down, I stood up, nodded to them and walked away. As I neared my residence, I took the phone out of my pocket and took a look at it. Damn it, the screen was cracked wide open and tiny electronic doo-dads were hanging out of one corner. I tried to turn it on, but nothing happened. The phone was kaput, ‘dead as a doornail!’

I thought for a while about my problem and, not knowing what else to do, I decided to find the cherub-thing who had given me the orientation a few days ago. I walked back to the administration building and went in. The directory listed an office called “Acclimation and Placement.” I walked over to that office where a sign said “Please Come In.” Inside the office, I found the cherub and asked if she had a moment to talk. “Yes,” she said, with a sigh. I wondered to myself if somehow she had already heard about it my phone behavior.

Anyhow, I took out my phone, showed it to the cherub and said, “I dropped this and it broke. How do I get a new one?” It frowned and, with another deep sigh, said, “I can’t help you. We don’t have replacement phones here. You all bring them here with you.

“You see,” it continued, “a long time ago, when La Jefa noticed that people were showing up with phones, she realized that we had do something. She figured that if people were being buried with their phones, they must be very important to them . . .and, she did want heaven to be a good experience for folks. We remembered back in the day when people were buried with some of their personal stuff and were allowed them to play with that stuff up here. She figured your phones were kind of like the Pharaohs’ tools, furniture, food, drinks, and figurines. She thought about how we used to let souls from long ago play with that stuff whenever they wanted to. It was these figurines that gave us the idea of creating a phone app that people could use to watch over their loved ones . . . kind of like virtual figurines I guess you could say. At any rate, other than the ones you all bring with you, there are no other phones available here.”

“But, what about ‘Watchtower’? How will I know how my loved ones are doing, whether they are happy and safe, you know?”

The cherub rubbed her little chin, looked slyly at me, and whispered, “I really can’t help you, but you could try Room 10 in the Ruby Building. Rumor is that they hold clandestine ‘reverse seances’ there.”

So, I wandered away, depressed and lonely, without a phone. In a little while I found myself back at the bench where I had dropped the phone in the first place. Sitting down, I reflected on my situation. Nothing was left for me. I guess that was it: For me, at least, heaven would be doing nothing, nothing at all. I wouldn’t even give it three stars on Yelp.

I was in the waiting room of the building. I was sitting by myself. Suddenly ,the lights started flickering on and off. I also heard a baby crying.

As I sat waiting for my surgery i struggled in my wheelchair. I was hoping that this surgery would finally put me out of my misery and take me out of this wheelchair.

I leaned over to get water from the machine but I struggled even harder, I fell but I was caught by someone. I looked up and it was the most handsome person I met.

“Are you ok ?” The man said to me as he put me back to normal “I think so” I smiled but my cheeks felt flushed

“Ok then, well my name is Marcos” “Mika” I shook his hand

“So what are you here for Mika” he said while getting water

“Surgery on my legs, you ?”

He looked down “I have cancer”

“Oh I’m so sorry”

“It’s fine” He said and held the water towards me

“Aw thank you.” I took the water from him as he sat down next to me.

We had a heart to heart conversation and as we did I realized I fell in love with him, he made me feel good.

“Marcos MacFarlane ?” A lady called out

“Oh that’s me” he stood up “Thank you Mika, thank you for making me feel like this.”

“Your welcome Marcos.” I said “Well this is it, Wait for Me ?” He said

“Of course.”

And he walked off

After a while a doctor walked up to me and said “Are you Miss Mika ?”

“Yes I am” I replied

“Well I have some unfortunate news for you about Marcos.”

I looked confused

“Why are you telling me this ?”

The doctor sighed “I’m afraid Marcos has passed away from cancer”

This info shocked me, I know I didn’t know him long but he meant a lot to me.

But it’s ok, I’ll wait for you.

…………….

Always