This One Shot was created using two writing prompts…

Given to me by a fellow (and brilliant) writer – Turn to page 51 of a book, use the last line as your starting point.

Found on Pinterest – Use the words: melted ice cream, November, Skeletons, and Whisky in your writing.

Note: There haven't been many edits here – it's pretty raw so please forgive any grave grammar, structure, and spelling errors that are surely there!

"Yet they may not be unfortunate at all, given the agenda of your soul."

The words stung as much as the cold chill that hung heavy in the November air. Trudging through the thickness of his current circumstances he dreamt of ways to undo all the damage he'd brought upon the world, instead all he found were broken promises, multiplied excuses, lies the size the building that housed his empire known as Grey Enterprises, and the skeletons of his former relationships swinging back and forth from the gallows he'd hand built without ever being aware. Each of his failures arranged another piece of wood, secured it in place by nuts, bolts, and nails, then secured the noose to string up all those he thought he'd loved. But if he'd really loved them, he would have noticed their persistent pleas for help, for relief, and for release before they'd been reduced to the masses of bones dangling in his wake.

He wished he could go back… like he had with that little girl with the bouncing blonde curls who's melted ice cream had fallen onto his very new and extremely expensive shoe when he'd just begun making his name. He'd yelled and berated her but as he walked away she quietly cried, "I'm very sorry Mister… but it was my ice cream that's gone… all you need to do is clean your shoes."

It made him stop, take a deep breath, and buy her a new cone from the small cart across the street.

That walk back through the park to find her felt like a thousand miles through the Sahara… It became abundantly clear to him in that moment how much work it is to be conscious of the presence of others in your life… to be really aware of them as more than a warm body near you in the coffee shop, as your siblings and parents sitting around the table when you were growing up, as an assistant wincing at your mere glance, or to be standing awkwardly between the warm bodies placed beside you in your family photos.

Somehow he'd built a life he was completely unaware of… maybe the voice inside his head was right after all… maybe they were better off without him now. Years too late, he couldn't possibly expect them to stand by him as he tries to find a way to live as an active participant in his life. Could he?

But before he could ask for another three finger whisky rocks on the side, the smell of stale beer hi his nose causing him to pull out his blackberry in an attempt to escape the momentary awareness he'd fallen into with this present moment.

Ana's name appeared on the screen…

"Hello," he barely choked out.

"Baby… come home." Those words were all he needed. He fled home to find his family patiently awaiting his journey to become whole; because while the voice inside him knew the blackness and emptiness that plagued his soul, his family knew he was the one who needed them after all.

He was the most fortunate unfortunate lost foul to ever find his way back home again.

- Prompt 1's line came from the book I'm currently reading Conversations with God.