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A Pocket Archive (26)

I watched the flames flicker orange than green as they devoured the ink on the notecard. It wasn't the oldest one the box, but had still been there for well over a year. It was strange, how the good news coincided with the rainbow fire that lit up the skies. Was it somehow for me? Probably not, but I liked to think so. They say coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous and I always find a strange comfort looking at the night skies, like some celestial hand is being placed on my shoulder, telling me everything will be alright.


I removed another card and a pen from my pocket. The winds were shifting and I could feel a strange, warm flicker of hope welling up in my soul again. Something was coming.


I smiled as I scribbled down another prayer, then closed my eyes, repeating it silently before slipping it into the little tin box.



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