Skip to main content

Wishing On A Wishing Star - a short story by A.B.King

   Once upon a time in the city of New York, an elderly man sat on a side walk with his legs crossed and a small metal tray in front of him. The man had spent his mornings and afternoons sitting on that spot for the past 23 years.
   As he sat there today, he hadn’t eaten in days and no one had put any money in his small metal tray. He was enraptured into remembering when he was a little boy many years ago and was the only child of the wealthiest man in New York City. Both his Mum and Dad died from a tropical disease while the two were vacationing alone on a resort in Africa. His Uncle swooped in and usurped his bequest before he could even blink or say ‘wha-’.
   He remembered the night his Uncle kicked him out of his father’s house. He saw a wishing star that night and wished that everything would just magically return to the way it used to be.
   He also remembered years later as a teenager when he saw a wishing star before he wrote his name on a dotted line, which signed him up for a job as a lumber jack man to begin work bright and early the next day. He had wished on the wishing star that something would prevent him from putting his name down and make things go back to the way it used to be when his  parents where alive.
   He also remembered when he slept his first night in a public park as a homeless person. As he lay on that park bench that day, he saw a wishing star and he wished on it that things would go back to the way it used to be.
   As the elderly man now sat on the side walk, these were the things he was thinking about. He hadn’t drunk water in a long while too. So he was hungry and parched as he sat on that side walk on the busy streets of New York.
   He started to feel sleepy – really really sleepy, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep. He couldn’t resist the urge to shut his eye lids and doze off.
   A few minutes later the elderly man opened his eyes. He saw a gigantic and very good looking man in front of him. He looked around him everywhere seemed different – it seemed like something out of a dream. “Am I dreaming?”, the elderly man asked.
   The good looking guy didn’t answer. He just smiled, held out his hand and said, “Come.”
   There was something about the good looking man that made the elderly man unable to disobey. It wasn’t his good looks. It was his Charisma, his radiating with influence – his authority. Something special that just can’t be easily described with words.
   “... Let me show you something”, the good looking man continued. He then took him to a stack of televisions that were all on. Each showing a different thing but the same person. That person was the elderly man at different ages of his life. Videos of things he never did when he was young. Videos of him accomplishing goals he never accomplished. Videos of him being successful beyond his wildest dreams.
   “What is the meaning of this?”, the elderly man asked curiously but not agitated.
“This is you. At least what you were meant to be. You were destined to be the greatest baseball player that ever lived. It’s why you were born – to touch the world as the greatest baseball player ever.
   These videos show you the things you should have done. But rather you spent your whole life feeling sorry for yourself and wishing on wishing stars.
   If you had prayed to God for direction and had done something rather than sit back and endure suffering, you would have been richer than your Dad ever was. You could have had more money and fame than you could ever dream of. All you had to do was do something. All you had to do was to stop wishing on wishing stars. All you had to do was realise that your life is in your hands.
   But... it’s too late now.”
   “Sorry ... what do you mean it is too late now?”, the elderly man asked.
   The good looking man looked him in the eye and said, “You are dead. I am God. You are not going back. You died not necessarily because of hunger and starvation but because of all the reasons I have mentioned while sitting on the side walk on the busy streets of New York.”

                                                              THE END.

Most Popular Posts In The Last 7 Days:

Our Boys In Blue - a poem by Alfred

Through Cold or Heat, Through Strength or Pain/
They Carry our Troubles, All Night, All Day/
They Risk their Future, To Keep us Safe/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
Without Police, No one would be Safe/
Bodies would paint the Street like Syria Today/
After the West played Chess and won the Game/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
Without Police in America, today/
Your Head and Your Body could be in different States/
One Part in Alabama, The Other part Up-State/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
We owe our Lives to Our Boys In Blue/
They carry the weight of the Red, White, and Blue/
And make it a Nation all Nations come to/
Have you said Thanks, To a Cop today?/

Why You Should Share This Post:  Because unlike some people, we Love & Respect those who risk their lives for us everyday.

* 🙋 What Would You Like Me To Write A Poem About Next? Please Leave A Comment.

Rather Than Hate The Rich, Become Rich - a poem by Alfred

Crucify the Rich, Burn them at the Stake/
Punish them for succeeding, where the rest of us has failed/
Their Remote controls the State like the TV channels they made/
Only 1 per cent are safe, 99 per cent are slaves/
Occupy the 1 per cent, Hello to Project Eliminate/
We don't need rich people in the world, walk 'em to their grave/
Like Marie Antoinette, and then We Would Eat Cake/
All Rich People are Evil, Greedy, and Really Vain/
Away with Rich people, Let us dig their graves/
They plan to dig ours, I can see it in their ways/
Who needs the Rich to build Banks, Skyscrapers, and Planes/
Who needs the Rich to build Rockets to take us to Outer Space/
Wealth can't create more jobs than poverty makes/
Poverty is what this country needs, take wealth away/
Destroy the Rich to make the world a better place/
I hate Rich people, even though I work all day/
I'm sure it's no so I could be Rich some day/
And if I get Rich I would give it all away/
Because I hate Riches, I'…

Madiba Says - a poem by Alfred

Success awaits every man at the top of the hill/
But after she shakes your hands, you see another hill/
New hills grow taller if you pause to sleep/
Success has feet, she can just get up and leave/
A Real Leader must love this people more than he loves himself/
And be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for them/
He must be dead to self, and live for them/
Otherwise he might ruin them while saving himself/
Freedom doesn't mean having no chains on your wrists/
It struts forward to mean liberating others wrists/
So if you don't liberate others you're imprisoned yourself/
The walls are invisible but they are still there/
Education is the most powerful W.M.D/
To destroy the destruction of humanity/
Don't judge me by conquered Mountain Tops/
Judge me by the times I fell and got back up/

The Quotes By Nelson Mandela That Inspired This Poem:
1)  After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.
2)  Real leaders must be ready to sacrifice …