is an adult who exhibits child-like behavior.
He gathers a notepad and goes to get a pencil and sharpens it with a
small hand sharpener)
pencil has to be just right. Never too
sharp, never too dull. If it's too sharp
it might poke me and I'll get lead poisoning and die! I saw a show about that once. People dying of lead... oh, yes and going nuts. I seem to remember Van Gogh got so much lead
poisoning he cut off his ear! Ouch!
That's like out of Shakespeare... friends, Romans, countrymen! Lend me your ears!
pencil. Pokes him)
Ouch! Too sharp...
(Tosses the pencil. Starts on another)
let's try to be a bit dull... dullness has it's merits. You can't get hurt. People don't expect as much from you. You do the job, but never for too long.
(Checks pencil. Smiles)
(Sits with pad and
(Pauses as if listening
know, I know... I will address it to Mr. God.
You've nagged me a million times about this. I know!
Just, just give me time okay.
This is an important letter so I don't want to rush it, okay.
(Starts to write)
God, I seem to have found something that is yours. A few nights ago, I was in bed,
sleeping I think, and then she was there.
She was at my bedside, all white and glowing, rocking in my grannie's
old chair. I couldn't really look at her
though. She was all bright like the sun,
giving me those spots on my eyes, those ones you have to blink away until their
gone. I must say I was a bit scared and
threw the covers over my head. When I
looked again, she was still there! I
couldn't believe it. I said, "You're
hurting my eyes." Kind of a silly thing
to say. Why didn't I say, "Are you a
ghost?" or something a bit smarter? She
said she was sorry and vanished. I was
worried I'd licked a few too many pencils and was going to cut off my ear, but
then I heard her voice. She told me how
she had fallen and couldn't get back home.
Her wings were broken and she couldn't fly. "Are you an angel?" I asked her. She said she was. I told her she could stay. See, I don't have many people here, just
Mom. I thought she could hang out with
me. She said yes, but now Mom wants her
to go away. She said it's not good for
me to be talking to her. I thought mom
liked angels but I guess not. Anyway...
can you send a car around or a winged chariot or something to pick her up? She wants to come home now. Sincerely, Billy Graham.
wonder if God will know which Billy Graham is writing him? I bet it will get his attention, that's for
(Looks at letter)
how do I send this? Does God have a
P.O. box? Is it like Santa Clause... you
know, Santa, North Pole... God, Heaven...
(Listens to voice)
What? Burn the letter? Why?
Will that work? If you say
(Goes to a cabinet)
hides the matches from me. They're over
(Pulls out box of
think there's a reason she does.
(Gets out an ashtray)
got this from Motel 6. Nice huh? I collect these things. Every time Grampa used to take me somewhere,
I'd get one. No, they're free. They have all kinds of free stuff in motel
rooms: pens, notepads, and towels.
Grampa liked it all. He said he
always wanted to get his money's worth.
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