Six months, he searched for it: the wish sword. Dull of blade, but sharp with power, whosoever found it was granted the power of a single wish to change their life. All throughout the lonely quest, he thought about what he might do with that wish when he found it. He could have riches, prestige, power the likes of which even the most brutal tyrant had never even imagined. He could… change the world.
Now that he had it in his hand, however none of those things felt worthy. He sat atop the mountain, where the sword had chosen to rest for a time, and took out his phone and powered it on. He had no idea what was going on in the world, with his family. He’d fully charged the phone before leaving six months earlier, but not once had he turned it on. Hundreds of notifications began firing in soft, urgent fashion. 9/14/18-Ding: Where R U, yo? 9/14/18-Ding: I’m not mad at you, Henry. 9/14/18-Ding: Why are you ignoring me? And on and on and on. Ding: You have 234 missed calls. 3/23/19-Ding: THIS IS URGENT HENRY PLEASE. MOM IS SICK. DON’T DO THIS ANYMORE. SHE NEEDS YOU. WE ALL NEED YOU. COME HOME.
Clutching the blade in one hand, his phone in the other, he knew what he had to do.