THE_REAL_SHAT

Pietà

I walked past a crying woman sitting on a bench, her wailing face turned to the sky. Tears streamed unhidden down her face and she held her arms wide. At her feet, a purse lay on its side, spilling its lip balms and mustard packets onto the beaten ground.

Stunned by how open she was in her grief and forgetful of my place as a stranger to her, I opened my mouth to ask her if there was anything I could do.

Also forgetful of the fact that I was currently in a contest with myself to see how many chocolate chip cookies I could fit in my mouth at one time.

It was seventeen.

But they were the little ones.

Despite appearances, this story has a happy ending.

You see, she was so terribly despondent because she loved chocolate chip cookies, but alas, had no more teeth to chew them. Her tears turned to joy as she happily accepted Sween’s gift of pre-chewed cookies.

Plus, seventeen was her favorite number.

THE END.

Source: atsween