My Wish


The three of us walked up to the two large piles of tree branch errata that awaited a future burning day and a burn permit. My mother reminded me, upon agreeing to print out signs months from now, that I was trying to watch my level of commitment.

Steve then looked at me and shared his concerns in saying no.

“You know, I can relate to this problem, and what I do, is I give people my wish.”

“Your wish?” I asked.

“Gosh, I wish I could do that for you…” pausing for a moment, touching my shoulder with the palm of his hand, “but I can’t.”

Ah, you could still give them something from nothing — emotion.

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