POSTCARDFICTION
Thirstin’ for a Miracle
They do happen, right?
The boy stood in line with his bottle of orange juice. He glanced at the coins in his hands, added them up in his head — a dollar sixty-eight. What did the sign say on the door? A dollar ninety-nine. He didn’t have that amount, nor the tax money. He waited in line anyway.
What ya waitin’ for, a miracle?
He ignored the voice in his head. Miracles do happen. Everyday. Hadn’t his mom beat cancer?
“Is that all, kid?”
The boy looked up at the clerk, startled. “Um, yeah.”
“That’ll be two dollars and three cents.”
He placed his coins on the counter and waited as the clerk counted them.
“You’re short thirty-five cents, kid.”
“I ain’t got no more.”
“Sorry, kid.” The clerk set the juice aside.
“Give the kid his coins back and add the juice to my bill,” a voice said.
The boy turned around to see a glowing figure behind him. Was it sunlight? Or… an angel?
“Thank you,” he sobbed.
©2021 Lori Carlson. All Rights Reserved.
For Centina Pentina’s weekly prompt — Spare Change
Lori Carlson writes Poetry, Fiction, Articles, Creative Non-Fiction and Personal Essays. Most of her topics are centered around Relationships, Spirituality, Life Lessons, Mental Health, Nature, Loss, Death, and the LGBTQ+ community. Check out her personal Medium blog here.
