Here is another great story from PhoenixWolf, entitled
The Box with No Soul
Background music by Smartsound
 
Destiny tapped her pen mindlessly while she talked on the phone. One of the residents of the mental institution had run away just over a day ago, causing quite a stir. George, the escapee, wasn’t a difficult person. He took his medications without complaint, did everything he was asked to do, and never caused trouble with the other patients. 
 
It was a shock to his orderlies and doctor when he managed to escape and  got stopped by police over 100 miles away. 
 
“Okay, I’m sending someone there to pick him up. He should be there in about two hours. Will that be okay?” 
 
She continued to tap the pen, an anxious gesture. She wanted to spread the good news that they found George, and that he was coming home safely. 
 
“Okay, thank you, sir. Please call me if anything comes up. Yep, you too. Goodbye.”
 
She pressed the receiver button to end the call, then immediately dialed George’s doctor.
 
“Dr. Steele, this is Destiny. I just got off with the police officer who has George.”
 
“He’s not hurt, though he’s a little out of it, and may be going through withdrawals from his meds. Otherwise, he’s not hurt and is being cared for until we can get him picked up.”
 
“Yep, I’ll call you when he gets here. You’re welcome, doctor.” 
 
___________________________________________________________________________
 
George sat on the shady bench, his hands wrapped around a tiny brown paper wrapped box and held close to his chest. He hadn’t said much to the police officer, Sgt. Lee. He was finishing a phone conversation with someone at the mental institution. He knew he would have to go back. The thought of that fact made him shudder.
 
“Hey, are you hungry?” Sgt. Lee said. “Some people are coming to get you, so we have some time.”
 
“Yes,” George said, looking cautiously at the officer’s equipment belt. “Are you going to put me in handcuffs?”
 
“That’s up to you. Are you going to run away or fight me?”
 
“No. Can I have a real hamburger?”
 
“Okay, we can do that,” the officer said, gesturing toward his car.
 
____________________________________________________________________________
 
An hour later, George finished the last of his meal. The diner was nice, quiet, and cool. He still held the small box carefully. Sgt. Lee watched George stare intently at the box.
 
“That box must be really important to you,” Sgt. Lee said.
 
“It is.”
 
“What’s in it?” 
 
“My soul.” George said, hesitation drawing the words out a little.
 
Sgt. Lee raised his eyebrows. “What’s it doing in a box?”
 
George looked him in the eye, “It’s there for safe keeping.” 
 
The sergeant thoughtfully considered George before he spoke again.
 
“It’s wrapped like a gift. Were you wanting to give it to someone?”
 
“An angel,” George said, a little sadness showing in his eyes. “But I couldn’t find him.”
 
“Angels can look like anyone, how would you know who to look for?”
 
“This angel carries a sword and a shield.”
 
Sgt. Lee took a sip of his water and settled back into his bench. “There aren’t many people that walk around with swords and shields,” he said.
 
“No.”
 
George looked back down at the small box. It felt heavy in his hands, but it was also very warm and comforting. He felt tired. His efforts to keep the package safe had been difficult, especially after leaving the institution. He had met plenty of people over the last 36 hours, none of which had looked right. Now, his time seemed to have run out. 
 
He looked at Sgt. Lee,