And that’s it, folks. This one was exciting and stimulating and titillating… OK, maybe that’s taking it a bit far. But this was a fantastic week. My favorite kind. So full of fantastic entries that it makes me very glad that I’m not the guest judge trying to pick the finalists. And really, really damn tough when it comes time to vote for only one of the five finalists. I admit, it took me forever to decide.
But I finally did, and so did you, and we have a winner. And it’s:
I just loved, loved, loved his entry this week. Wow. Total nightmare for any of us, right? Here it is, in all his glory, Neil’s winning entry. CONGRATS!
I glanced down into the blue light. I could make out an image, maybe a person, but I was too scared to really focus. I looked back at Tommy.
“Are you sure it’s real?”
“Hell, yeah,” he said, grabbing the rock from my hands. “If you’re too chicken shit to look in it, I’ll give someone else a turn. You can have your five bucks back.”
“But where did you get it?”
“I told you, I found it, that’s all you need to know.” He hopped back onto his bike, the rock under his arm. “You want to find out or not?”
“Okay,” I said.
Tommy smiled that devilish little grin of his and hopped back onto the grass.
“All right. Now just look in it until you see the picture. It will be there and it will tell you your destiny. Your best moment. The highlight of your life.”
“How do I know it’ll come true?”
“You’re such a chicken shit. Walt Greaney saw a bank vault and you know he’s a genius with money. And Sara Tomlinson saw herself at a beauty pageant – Miss damned America! It’s totally psychic, man. Just look!”
He stuck the rock out at me. I took it, sat down, cross-legged, and looked at the surface.
The blue light slowly grew and I could see an image. It was a person, definitely a person. It was me. I could tell it was me, but I looked so old, so bald and pudgy. I was holding a bowling trophy.
I threw the rock as hard as I could.