by Miles Rost
From the diary of Richard Sullivan
With the plop of papers into my basket, I was done with my day.
I slid on my leather trenchcoat as I stood up from the desk. It had rained earlier in the day, and it helped to keep my clothes dry. I looked at the papers on my desk, sitting neatly in the basket in which I plopped them down. A typical Thursday evening, everything was ready for tomorrow morning, and I would be on my way home.
I walked out of my building, and onto the sidewalk. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second as I looked towards the sinking sun in the northwestern sky. The heaviness that was in my heart, in my hands, had come back to sit down upon things.
My thoughts turned from work and work issues to the burden on my shoulders. As the heaviness in my heart spread, the indicator that I was being “called” came up. As I felt the stiffness and the aching in my index fingers, and knew that she was the one in trouble.
I walked towards my home and I focused my thoughts inwards. I took many deep breaths as I walked slowly towards my one-bedroom apartment. I searched deep within my heart to see what was going on, what the problem was.
She has been there for the longest time. I’m not sure who she is, as I have never met this woman. It’s unusual, because I normally wouldn’t connect with someone I don’t know. But, I can sense her in my heart and in my indicators. I feel as though she is not doing very well today. When this happens, I think about the things that I can do from here.
In the time since I left work, have been thinking about this woman, and arrived outside my apartment, it’s been about 25 minutes. Walking is a great thing as it clears one’s head. However, to be honest, I didn’t feel much clearing today, especially in regards to her.
I walked into my apartment and set my things down. After taking a shotglass of water and downing it, I sat on the edge of my bed and started to pray. In this case, it’s the only thing I can do. I don’t know where she is, so I cannot be near her. I know that my prayers, however, will allow her comfort. That she will be shown love in a way that’s totally different from anything.
This woman and I are intimate strangers. We are connected in a way that no one could even fathom, and yet we have never met. And I hope that sometime in the very near future, I’ll be able to see her and that we’ll both know that we’re the ones. This is my hope and prayer.
I like this novel concept. There seems to be a lot more to the story, like how he does this. What else can he tell about her?