The car locked in a parking garage, walking now, the sidewalk cracks tick by under the stroller. The grown up minds are focused on the mall.
"Why did God make us?" Anna pulls from the air or her heart
since there is no graffiti anywhere to that effect. She is five.
"You mean like us--you, me, mama and Ava? Or us like people
and the world?"
It is important to understand the question.
"You know why I think?" She offers up.
"Why Anna?"
"I think God made us because he was lonely."
1 comment:
Talk about a direct hit. You go, Anna.
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