“Max, you’re drunk.”
No I’m not. I’m just a lil’ bit relaxed is all.
“Mmm…no, you’re officially plastered. Isn’t that the term you kids use today?”
Okay, I have to agree with you. I’m pretty smashed. Must’ve been that last beer what tipped me over the edge.
“How do you feel?”
What kinda stupid question is that? We just agreed I’m hammered. Ain’t cha got no sense?
“Come on. Don’t talk to me that way. You’re smarter than that.”
Whatever, kill joy. Why do you keep following me around, anyway? Don’t you have something else to do besides bother me, while I’m celebrating?
“Oh? What exactly are we celebrating, Max?”
Ha HA! Didn’t you hear? Today I lost my job. It was dumb anyway. Getting’ up at four inna mornin’ and working ‘til only YOU knew when, everyday? No thanks. Construction’s not for me anymore. I got better plans for my life.
“Ah, I see. So we’re celebrating your liberation from the confining conditions of the workforce establishment.”
Hey that was awesome! Let me find a pen so I can *hickup* write that down.
“Max, you haven’t spent any real time with me in quite awhile. I just thought I’d let you know I’m still around. I’m still here for you.”
Yeah? Well thanks, but I think I’ve…*hick*…got everything hell in wand, thank you very much. Feel free to go spread your message around to somebody else. I’m sure you can find a hobo layin’ around somewhere.
“Come on, don’t act this way. Remember…I know you.”
You don’t know a thing about me, buddy! If you know so much about me, then why’d you put me here? Look at my life! It’s a friggin’ wreck! You know so much about me, then how come you couldn’t give me money all the times I ever needed it? Where were you when my parents kicked me outta the house? Where was your mercy today, when they gave me the pink slip? You don’t know a thing about me!
“I was there, Max. Throughout every trial, and every bad decision you’ve ever made, I’ve been with you. Despite your hatred and disdain for me, I refuse to give up on you. You see, I have high expectations for your life, Max. You can’t see your path yet, but I want you to trust in me. Your life is so precious. I will not leave you to fend alone.”
You don’t get it do you? I don’t believe in you! I never did! That’s why I stopped going to church. You don’t exist!
“And yet, here you stand talking to me. I know your desires, Max. That’s why I follow you. I know what you’re searching for. But you won’t find it at the bottom of that bottle. I want you, but you have to want me.”
I hate you.
“I love you.”
I’m not worth loving. My own parents disowned me. Why should I believe you love me?
“Because I keep my promises. Think about this: right now while you’re celebrating at the top of this bridge, who else is here with you?”
No one. That doesn’t prove anything. If you really want me, and you don’t want me to jump, you gotta prove it. Show me one of your mira…*hick*…mirror…one of your special signs!
“…one of your special signs!” Max yelled into the cool darkness of the clear night sky. He chucked the empty glass bottle and watched it tumble. Moonlight glinted across the glass before he saw the splash 70 feet below. The moment of truth had come.
“Where’s your miracle, God? Your time’s up.”
Max closed his eyes as he prepared to let go of the bridge guardrail. In the distance behind him, the night air carried the sound of a church bell ringing in the 12 o’clock hour. But something else floated on the air; something closer. Max opened his eyes and turned around to find a young boy, no more than five years old, standing before him, sniffling. Max climbed from the guardrail and knelt down before the sobbing boy.
“What are you doing out here, kid?”
“I’m lost. I can’t find my home,” the little boy blubbered.
“How did you get here?”
“I don’t know. I just want my Daddy,” the little boy cried.
Max sighed. "Okay God, you win. Let’s go find your way back home little buddy.”
He took the child’s hand and walked into the night, away from the bridge.
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