[ WP ] God sets up a text message service for prayers . You send in your most heartfelt desire to the Almighty , only to notice you 've been screwed over by autocorrect .

Jerome hit the send button and slipped the phone into his pocket. He squinted his eyes up at the midday sky and waited. A minute passed, then two. He turned his gaze toward those around him, looking for any sign of change. Hurried looking men walked past without a glance, just as they did everyday. Silk ties flapping in the breeze, they filed in and out of the skyscrapers. He wondered how many of them would lose their jobs after today. Behind the beautiful glass, inside the concrete towers, how many of these men made their living on the suffering of others. 
 
 Click, click, click. On the other side of the sidewalk a pair of heels dug themselves into the concrete, effortlessly gliding along. The heels led up to a pair of long and shapely legs, and a beautiful woman. Everything about the woman was designer made, the oversized sunglasses, the undersized skirt, even the paper bags she carried. He ’ d never seen her before in his life, all the same he felt like he ’ d seen her everyday for the last five years. She was the type that would go into the stores with the huge crystal windows and come out carrying load of bags. of course, making extra sure the names on the sides of the bags were prominently displayed. 
 
 She wouldn ’ t give him a dime, she would n't even give him smile, but still he watched her as she walked. To his surprise she stopped right in front of him. His heart skipped a beat. Maybe she would put her bags down, take the sunglasses off, and see him. If this woman could see through the dirty clothes, see through the unkempt beard, and see him for what he truly was, a fellow human being, her brother, he knew his wish had come true. 
 
 Instead he saw why she had stopped. A family of tourist had poured out of a yellow cab, and was now blocking the flow of foot traffic. They gaped up, trying to see the tops of the immense buildings, camera phones at the ready. The woman, whose face had been beautiful and elegant a second before, scowled. She silently pushed her way through with all the grace of a rhinoceros. She hadn ’ t seen Jerome, and he would never see her again. 
 
 Eyes on the ground, Jerome felt like a fool. He stared at the cardboard he was sitting on and tried to drown out the noise. But, through everything, through the footsteps and the sirens, through the endless car horns, and the buzz of a million people, he heard a single noise, -CLANK-. He looked up, and saw a small girl, no more than six years old. She had blonde hair, bright as the sun. Cheeks so rosy they looked like candy apples. She had dropped a single quarter into his tin can. He wanted to smile at her, but he didn ’ t want to scare her, he was missing so many teeth. He wanted to hug her, to tell her that his wish had been for her. He had wished for a better future for her, for every little girl, and little boy, and man and woman in the world. He had wished for peace. But then a man came up, and grabbed the little girl by the arm. 
 “ Susie, what are you doing? Come here. ” He dragged her away. Jerome looked down once again, “ Thank you. ” he muttered. 
 
 It had all been a lie, the dream, the phone, everything. He reached into his pocket, half expecting it to be empty. The phone was in his hand, and he wondered if he was going insane. Thinking back to the previous night, everything was so clear in his mind, it wasn ’ t just any dream. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night. A voice, thunderous, yet silent, full of power, so much so that he wanted to cower in fear, yet so loving, so caring, “ JEROME, JEROME, WAKE UP. ” Immediately his eyes had opened, and he was standing. He felt awake. Awake like he had never felt before. Most of all he remembered the silence. The city around him was empty, not a single person or car to be seen. The buildings were dark, the streets deserted, as if it had been abandoned a century before, no, a minute before. In that moment the most intense light he had ever seen in his life shone above him. So intense was the light that it pushed him to the ground. The light pushed him down and went through him. The light was in his body and in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly it hurt, but never before had he seen such brightness. He had fallen to the ground, and in that moment he felt a presence in front of him. It had spoken to him. 
 
 “ YOU AMONG MANY HAVE BEEN CHOSEN. AM, WHO SENT ME, HAS DELIVERED ONTO YOU, THE FATE OF THIS WORLD. I GIVE TO YOU THIS CELLPHONE. YOU ARE TO SEND ONE REQUEST. AM, WHO CREATES AND DESTROYS, WHO GIVES AND TAKES AWAY, WILL GRANT IT. ” Then the words had stopped, and he felt the presence leave, and the light fade. With the fading of the light, he had slipped out of consciousness. When he awoke, it was daytime. The city was just as it always had been, buzzing with life and activity. The only change was that in his pocket, he found something that had not been there the day before, a cellphone. 
 
 Jerome had been living on the streets for five years, but he knew what cell phones were in style, and this was not one of them. It was rectangular, with a small green screen, and face buttons. The buttons were the numbers one through zero, with letters under each, and a space symbol under the zero. On top of the numbered buttons, right under the screen, was a green button, “ Send ”. It looked, obsolete, like something Nokia had released in 1999. The screen had one thing written in small-digitized letters, “ Write Message: ” Jerome had known what he had to do. He typed, “ May God bless the world with peace. ” and hit send. 
 
 That had been fifteen minutes ago, but nothing seemed to have changed. Jerome stared at the phone. “ I wonder what peace even looks like? ” he thought, as he saw the little girl ’ s family walking away. “ God bless you! ” He yelled after them. At that moment two things happened at the exact same time. Jerome felt something hit him on his head, and he saw a small object fall down the sky and straight into someone ’ s mouth. One of the tourists that had been staring wide-mouthed at the giant buildings was now convulsing on the sidewalk and clutching at his throat. In the confusion, half the crowd rushed towards him, while the other half tried to get away, leaving everyone stuck. 
 
 What no one seemed to notice was that the sky had gotten considerably darker. At that moment it opened up, and unleashed the most intense hailstorm Jerome had ever seen. Everyone dispersed, and the choking tourist was dragged away to cover. Not believing that a hailstorm had broken out in the middle of summer, Jerome stood up, and realized it wasn ’ t hail at all. There were small orbs falling from the sky. Thousands, millions of them, smashing into the concrete and splattering into green goo. There were so many of them that Jerome could barely see. “ What the hell is this? ” he thought. ‘ These things look like… ” 
 
 Gripping the phone, he ran as fast as he could for cover, being pelted as he went. Pushing his way through a glass door, he found himself in the lobby of one of the buildings and surrounded by people screaming, staring in disbelief at the sight outside. They were all covered in the green goo. Jerome pressed one of the buttons on the phone, and scanned the screen. He read the message, read it again. “ May God bless the world with… ” “ peas. ” Jerome ’ s body slumped to the ground, the phone slipping from his hand. For forty days and forty nights peas fell on New York City. 
 
 Many decades later, when the history books were being written, when the media frenzy had subsided, after every last scientist had been baffled, and the Great Pea War was over, a unit of the US Army returned to the spot where Jerome had fallen. As they cleared debris, preparing for the arrival of the first re-settlers of Manhattan Island, they found the skeleton of a middle aged, African-American man. It had been pea-fossilized after decades of burial, and identification was impossible. But next to the remains they found an old phone, a relic of a by gone era. Somehow it still turned on, and on the screen were the words: “ Message delivered. Auto-correct: On ”.
