****
I hope when I said “Visitors” you weren’t thinking of that show on ABC with the aliens.
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Around the World at Hare Speed
Sara Peyton was standing in her room thinking about her fear of moving vehicles, which she now knew was called “Ochophobia”. She was an interesting 13-year-old, not just because of her phobia, but because of all her tools she hid in the shed…and that thing of hand sanitizer that would automatically dispense. Yes, she made that herself. And yeah, people actually use it
All those tools were in the shed to possibly make some wacky thing, but until Friday (the 13th), they were never used. So, that Friday, as Sara was getting totally sick of her phobia, she decided to make something no one ever made before. An elevator!! No, not that kind, an elevator that would take some one like Sara to any place, Switzerland being one, in ten seconds or less.
So stupendous Sara got to work, and in about three weeks finally built her masterpiece Even though few school kids mockingly called it a “time machine”, Sara stood her ground and invited a few friends to try it. Shelly and Brianna came over and went to Washington state, and then India. They came out looking like their mouths were stretched down with bricks.
After a week, word got out until it got to the local news. And after that, a man with luggage showed up to try it. He told Sara and her parents he wanted to go see his dying relative in Ireland, but he just couldn’t get himself to fly on a plane. Well, they let him do it, and he got to see his cousin before she died.
Now, you’re all probably thinking that this machine is for the lazy, but hey, those people still have to pack! And as for the people who think people should just get over their phobias, you’re right. Sara still has to get over hers. Anyone else has to get over theirs. But hey, if you ever see this kind of machine, you’re going to wish they do away with airplanes.
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Weird Cooking
Mom was combining carrots, beef, water, and ginger to make a stew…at exactly twelve midnight…yes, she was fast asleep. My brother and I were going to wake her up, but Dad told us not to touch a sleeping person, especially if they’re holding a knife and a cutting board. So, avoiding getting chopped, we got our pillows and blankets, lai down in the hallway, and watched Mom’s One-Woman Show.
Mom was on fire (not literally) as she chopped the beef and carrots; man, she not only acted like a Food Network star, but she looked liked one, too! Everyone confuses her for Giada De Laurentiis, even though Mom’s a bad cook. Yes, that’s right. Ok, wanna hear a funny story? Ok. One night, when it was just Mom and Dad, Mom cooked a seemingly good filet mignon. When Dad tasted it, he swallowed it without making a face, and said,
“Dearest, you know how you’re incredible at sewing? Why don’t you do that and I’ll cook?”
Mom replied,
“Dearest, you know how you were so incredible at lying? Why don’t you continue that?” Yeah, Mom never liked to hear Dad tell her nicely that she was bad at doing something.
So, on with the show. Mom put the ingredients in the crock pot and then did a little victory dance. We used the pillows to muffle our laughter as she did a quirky version of the Disco, then she did The Twist and the Electric Slide. Yeah, Mom always loved those dances and she said proudly that she would do them even in the year 2019!
But, after she danced, she turned the lights off and went to bed. Dad would then get up every hour to check the stew (yes, he actually did that).
The next morning, we had “you know exactly what” for breakfast. Course, Mom didn’t know she made it until she cleaned up some spills on the counter that Dad intentionally didn’t clean.
The stew was amazing and the ginger was a bit different, but it really flavored the beef. And though we disagreed on the idea, we thought about Mom sleep-cooking meals.
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Yi Yi Yippee Yi Yo!
(Sitting on the couch) Man, last week was really stressful. With Bob on our tails, especially mine… (impersonates Bob) Skippy do this, Skippy do that, Skippy work ‘til twelve tonight. I need to do something today…it’s Saturday, stores are open. Yes! Stores are OPEN!! I can actually do something fun with my cash! Target, here I come!
(At Target) Oooh! That looks nice! (picks up a gold shirt with a silver neckline) Hey, I’ll buy that…and, man, pants that match, look at that! Sold! (goes to the jewelry department) Oh my! Look at all this! I must buy something for my sister! (buys a gold ring with a ruby on it)
(At Nordstrom) Now that’s trendy! (picks up a red shirt with silver sequins) And look at you! (picks up a pink dress with black ruffles, walks further and sees red jeans with a black top) Red jeans! Wow! What else can I…PERFECT! (a Spanish-style skirt with a dazzling orange top) This is going on me for Clara’s quinceañera*! (*Sweet 15) Ok…the next thing I see, I’ll pass up. (sees cameo pants, grins) Ok, maybe not. (picks up pants) Hmm, I’m getting hungry. I’ll pay for these and go for lunch!
(At the Nordstrom restaurant) Ah, the barbeque chicken sounds unbelievably good!
(Nordstrom parking lot) All right that was swell…no wait, I gotta get that outfit for Lindsay at Limited Too!
(At Limited Too) Here’s what she wanted! (picks up a pink outfit with yellow daisies on it) Now, is there anything for me here? (grins at joke)
(At home on the couch) What a great day that was! Oh boy! That was fun! Now…let me look at my receipts. (looks at receipts, her eyes get big, and she starts to scream upon seeing what she spent, but then thinks instead) You know, I’m grateful for the stressful work days and overtime. ‘Cause then, I’ll have enough money to splurge
EVERY
SINGLE
SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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How to Marry Stubborn
Mary Mallory was a bright, shining young woman with the classic blond-hair-blue-eyes look. In other words, she was perfect!! On the outside. On the inside, however, there lay the reasons why her friends were begging me not to marry her.
“She’s feisty!”
“She’s fights right back!”
“She’s a hard shell to crack!”
“She doesn’t like bacon!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my God!!!!!”
She was indeed a hard shell, as I found out first hand when I took her shopping one day. She and I were arguing over what color Flip camera to buy. Well, we argued, and argued, and fought; the manger stepped in, kicked us out…and I swear her mouth kept on arguing as she flew through the air from being kicked.
The last time we were hot, she threw stuff at me like no one’s business. She said she would keep throwing things until I admitted she was right…about whatever it was, I forget now.
You’re probably wondering why I would want to marry a woman like that. Well, I knew she had a heart. I knew there was something nice about her. I knew she used to be a nanny and the kids loved her. If she could show her warm side to children and babies, she could very well show it to me.
So, one fine day, we were arguing again and I did the most out-of-place thing ever: I kissed her. She pushed me back like I went mental, then I told her I loved her.
She collapsed to the floor in tears like it was the most terrible thing I could’ve said to her.
After I sat down with her, she told me she had breast cancer. And instead of being “I’m-gonna-go-out-and-really-live” about it, she got upset and frustrated at the world. But that day, I broke down her negative feelings. I saw Mary’s kind heart that was still there, not beating, but there.
Months later, we got married, and at our wedding, I was ecstatic that I made her the happiest woman in the world.
Years later, I placed dinner at my daughter’s place setting.
“Daddy, I don’t like veggies and chicken!”
”All right,” I said, “I guess you’re going to bed hungry.”
“What?”
“Well,
you have to eat what’s on your plate, and if you don’t, there’s no dessert and nothing else to eat. So, are you going to finish dinner?”
“No! I don’t like this stuff!”
I really didn’t want my little darling to go to bed hungry, but I had to be the father, so Elsie went to bed. And too bad Mary was shopping; she would’ve be perfect right about then when Elsie set her eyes on that broccoli.
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For the Fans
Mickey raged into the studio room, “You can’t do this!! These Three-Free-Concert things…are you insane?”
Candace was in the middle of writing another song.
“Mick, why can’t you just deal with it? It’s not like the freebies are grouped together, and they’re to show how much I love my fans.”
Candace Patience, stage name: Patience, was a well-known and very well-liked teen folk/pop singer from Washington State. She loved her many fans so much that she decided to do three concerts for free every year, which she named “Three Free Concerts”. But her manager, who was brainwashed by Hollywood, opposed the idea.
“You don’t get it, do you?” He spoke the following slowly, “Professional entertainers entertain for a living. They need to make money. Everything they do their fans have to pay for.”
“All right, Mick.” Candace said, slightly annoyed. She went back to her writing. Then she looked up: Mickey was still standing there with his arms folded and he had a rather impatient look on his face.
“You’re still here.”
“Yes, I’m still here to tell you that if the next concert is free, I’m kicking you off this label.” And he walked out.
Candace sat on her bed at home, thinking about whether to get rid of her special concerts. She tossed and turned as if it were nighttime; the thought was nagging at her that much. Finally, she created a mental scale with money on one side and fans on the other. The fans side kept tipping, obviously. She let out a muffled scream of frustration in her pillow, so as not to disturb her baby sister, and thought again. She thought about why she would love her fans so much, because after all, weren’t they the ones who screamed at concerts, fought each other to get autographs, and carelessly climbed on the stage? But then she thought about how fans seem to care so much about their favorite stars that they sometimes write them sweet letters, some fans struggle to avoid bothering them, and best of all it’s the fans that rise the stars to the top (or drag them straight down). All this thinking! Oh, but what about the money? She thought about how money can buy a house, food, clothing…she leaped off her bed with her decision.
“Hi, Candace. I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“That’s ok.” There was a long-winded pause.
“Listen, I’ll make a deal with you.”
“I’ll make a deal with you, too.”
“You first.”
“Nah, you go.”
Mickey took a deep breath, “Ok. I’ll let you do one free show a year.”
Candace took a step back. “What the? That’s the same idea I had.”
“Really??”
“Yeah! Creepy!”
“I’ll say!” Another nasty silence suffocated the studio.
“Well, thank you,” said Candace.
“No problem, kid.” He turned to leave, but not before saying, mostly to himself, but partially to her, “Money isn’t everything.”
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On in 5
Hannah Gord was a TV/Broadway/movie veteran and she was about to do yet another Broadway play…when anxiety hit…hard.
“You’re on in five minutes!” The director poked his head into her dressing room.
“Ok!” Hannah replied, she looked down and her hands were shaking. She knew she was a seasoned pro, and that it was all excitement, but something was wrong. She began to feel a little light-headed. What’s going on, she asked herself. She then started to diaphragm breathe and tell herself she did this all before. She felt fine. Then she looked at her watch again and her thoughts started to overlap. She started thinking about the audience, about her lines; the other members’ lines…wait! It was the pressure from hearing or seeing the time. But, just to make sure, she checked her watch again, and this time, she fell to the chair in exhaustion.
After getting herself up, she decided to do a couple yoga moves to get awakened. Then she dashed out of the room to make sure the director didn’t come in again; she went onstage and went back to feeling like a pro.
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Big Strong Girl
Kay is 13 and already a university student at Devry! She can take care of herself and everything! She’s so smart and brave…God, she already has a job as a lab technician.
I’m Kay; I’m 13 and attend Devry University. Everyone loves me, but…I don’t know. I’m really stressed out all the time and I feel like I can’t tell anyone. My lab technician job’s good, but it’s really hard sometimes. I’ll cry for no reason…I miss my mom.
Oh my God! Kay has the life! Ok, like, her lab technician job is soooo cool. She gets to perform tests that detect and treat disease. She must be so happy right now! While Cyndi and I are trying to find boyfriends, Kay is trying to prepare specimens.
Yeah, the specimens are great, but I’m not. I’m tired of being the “smarty”, tired of being one of the best. The top really stinks. My so called “friends” shun me because I’m not in their school. And...I’m not going to tell Mica my secret. It will devastate her.
I’m going up to Devry campus to visit Kay. (Mica visits Kay and then returns.) Man, people, I’ll tell ya, Kay is amazing! I hope she gets very well-known for all her hard work! Even famous!!
Fame…that would be just ducky.
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Blorange
Hi there, Whoever’s Reading This! I’m Jackie, the leader of the Christian clique, “God’s Boldistas”. Now, from the name, you might have a good idea of who we are. Myra’s the one with the shiny metallic wig and signature gold flare jeans, Kate, a.k.a “BrashEye”, the one with the loud eyeliner, Jane, the one with the fish symbol and cross tattoo, and me, with half my hair dyed blue and the other half orange. So, now you know who we are, you probably wanna know what we do. Or maybe you find us repulsive, but I’m gonna tell you anyway so this story isn’t one paragraph long.
We do more than just sit around look all-that, every weekday we witness for two hours, then have a prayer session where we pray that all non-Christian people will be gently lead to Christ. Gently, not out of force, but on account of that we believe witnessing is to be done of love and peacefulness towards the non-Christian. And if the person does not wish to become Christian…well, then we go on to our prayer meeting. Although, all isn’t perfect; there’s one bully at good ol’ Harrison High who wanted to de-clique us…mostly ‘cause of my hair color: blorange.
Enter Fiona Lee, the leader of her clique “The Godly Five”…now they’re the ones who just sit around look all that…ok, they do more than that. They actually stand around and judge whether people are going to Heaven or Hell based on they’re appearances. Lovely, eh dudes? According to Fiona, our group was going to Hell in one of those hand baskets, and soon! So, one day after school, “The Godly Five” and our group had a showdown, complete with Fiona pulling my hair while yelling, “Your body is God’s temple!! That goes for your hair, too! Don’t know you’re not supposed change the color of your hair, IN GOD’S NAME?” No, Fiona, I didn’t read that in the Bible, I thought, while she was trying to yank my hair out. Now I think, oh yes, I did read about that, right in the second chapter of the Fiona Lee Version of the Bible.
So, finally, avoiding brain damage from my skull being tortured, I called for what our clique always does when someone’s stubborn, a prayer meeting. We prayed that Fiona would relax, and that she would cool down the judging.
God said yes to our prayers; Fiona actually softened a bit. Now she’s judging based on personality, albe
it she does sometimes glare at the punk and the emo teens, but that’s only human.
And as for my hair, Fiona took a good chunk of it out (the blue side), but when the original blonde grew back, I dyed it blue again. And she grabbed the orange side, but not enough came out to worry about.
So to the Christians who dare to go out there, I say, be Boldistas (or Boldistos) for God!!
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Graffiti Friendship
Clarissa Tonya was lazily staring out the window one day, when she saw a teen girl all dressed in black doing graffiti on the sidewalk. For five days, Clarissa would see the same situation. On the fifth day, Clarissa asked her mom if she knew anything about this girl.
"No, and you're not going to talk with her."
"Why?"
"Because she just doesn't look like the kind of girl you should be hanging out with." Mrs. Tonya said.
"But she looks harmless! Just drawing random things like that!"
"But look at her, she's a Goth, those people like to dwell on darkness."
"Mom, we don't even know her! I mean, she could be a Christian!"
"A Christian Goth?" Mrs. Tonya laughed.
"Could be true."
Mrs. Tonya paused then said, "You sound interested."
Clarissa knew her mother was now playing the Oh-my-God-I-just-realized-this card to attempt to understate the situation, appear dim, and get out of the conversation. Clarissa wasn't buying it this time.
"Ya think?"
Mrs. Tonya sighed. "You're a smart girl...go hang with her, but if she's toxic---"
"I know. Thanks Mom."
So Clarissa went outside and saw the girl drawing with black and red spray cans.
"Hi!"
"Hi there!" The girl looked up from her art.
"You're new here, right?"
"Yep, just moved here a couple weeks ago from New York. The name's Fara."
"Clarissa."
"Nice to meet you." Fara smiled, and it was the most beautiful smile Clarissa had ever seen.
"Nice smile...and nice art."
"Thanks!"
"Why do you do graffiti on the, um, sidewalk there?"
"I like to think outside the canvas. Plus, I don't like to be restrained."
"Oh." Clarissa continued to admire Fara's handiwork. "So, you’re thinking about being a pro artist?"
"Yeah, someday, but for now I enjoy drawing out in the open."
"That's cool. So where do you live?"
"A few blocks away in the yellow house. You?"
"Right here." Clarissa pointed back to the green house with the flower garden in front.
"Nice house." Said Fara.
"Thanks." Clarissa thought to herself: she's not a bad person, like I thought she wasn't.
"Well, I guess I'll see you around then. Happy drawing!" Clarissa turned to leave.
"No wait!" Fara began to shake up five cans of different colors. She then drew a picture of her and Clarissa.
"Wow! Cool! Thanks!" Clarissa beamed.
"No problem. I'll see ya!"
Clarissa smiled and waved thinking: maybe curiosity doesn't always kill cats.
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True Character
Hi, I’m Ghira, I’m 21, and I wear this green veil that is a constant reminder, and will not come off. Here’s why:
It all started in high school. There was a satirical play in the works and I wasn’t supposed to play the “Bonita” role, but some girl fell and broke her back, so I had to take the role.
Meanwhile, I was the queen bee/leader of the “Holier than Thou” clique. Two other girls and I thought we were the “Jr. Chosen Ones” and yada yada yada. We constantly pushed others around telling them they weren’t good enough. Well…back to the play. I had to play Bonita, the goody-two-shoes who believed she deserved to have everything in life. Bonita wore this green veil that she thought was so unbelievably pretty, even though it was actually made out of “rat fur” that was dyed green. When the play was recited one night, I swear the audience got the best work-out of their lives laughing at Bonita and seeing the harsh reality she ignored.
Later that night, while taking off my Bonita costume, I tried to take off the veil. The ugly thing wouldn’t come off. I sat in my room that night and rounded up some hideous ideas to pry it off, but to no avail. I just didn’t get it.
Now I do, and I have good news and bad news to tell you:
Bad news: “Holier than Thou” is over.
Good news: “Holier than Thou” is over.
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Ultimate Courage
There was a passed-down-from- three-generations vase, solid gold, with red jewels around it. Well, it was on the shelf, standing peacefully, until Sadie bumped into it. As soon as it crashed, Sadie felt her stomach sink a few levels and her mind went hysterical.
But then she sat back and began the decision-making process of whether to tell the truth or not. Here are the facts: her deceased grandfather gave her that gorgeous lamp, it was a special lamp because the Ascher family name was beautifully etched on it, and it was only passed down to the oldest child. Sadie cried while thinking about the last fact; she was the oldest, how could she be so careless? Well, she picked herself up and decided she was going to be honest. Her mom would be home in a few minutes, perfect.
Carrie came home, noticed the vase, and fainted. After Sadie recovered her mom, Sadie said, “You can’t begin to know how sorry I am.” Her brain automatically prepared to take a good thrashing.
“You better be sorry, that was your grandfather’s! He gave that to you because he thought you were capable of handling it! I GUESS EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE SIXTEEN, YOU’RE ACTUALLY SIX!!”
Her mother’s mouth shot a nice bullet into her heart.
“You know it was an accident!”
“I don’t care! What were you doing, talking on the stupid phone while walking?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you know how much that cost? A half a million dollars!! Now, you threw it all away! Thank you very much!” She went over to clean the pieces.
“Can I help?”
“No!” Carrie was so hot and furious; she couldn’t even shed tears over the lamp. “You’re grounded for three weeks! Don’t even answer the phone, either.”
Sadie rushed up to her room. Between sobs she prayed to the Lord that He would forgive her and prayed to her grandpa Binnie, all while wondering if she would have the guts to tell the truth ever again.
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The Nearly-Permanent Label
Josh Cramer was called lots of nasty things, like: trash, loser, and dirt bag. But none was as defeating as the label he heard the day after he joined the ballet school.
“No way, man! Or should I say, ‘girl’? What on earth are you doing?” Jerome asked unquestionably shocked.
“Jerome, don’t be like that.”
“You know Josh; I always thought you were masculine.”
“I am--”
“I always thought you were tough and strong.”
“Jerome, listen--”
“But, you’re not. I guess you’re gay.”
Josh looked at his ex-best friend up and down, then, because he was speechless, he turned and walked back home.
Josh was a guy, a guy who could box, do karate, play football and other manly things. But one night when he was fifteen, he saw a girl doing ballet on TV. He thought it was the most beautiful thing ever. And his saying something was beautiful was a rare occurrence. So, after a while, he decided to get into ballet. Now he was thinking about getting out of it.
I can’t believe he called me that! But maybe he’s right. Maybe I should bail out now before I turn into one of those…people. Those gay…people. I mean…I don’t wanna be gay, I wanna be a man. Tomorrow, I’ll quit ballet. Ballet…that sweet graceful dance, no! I-I-I have to quit before I turn into a gay loser. Or what if I already am? I’m
already gay for signing up for the class!
The next day, he was just going to go to Ballet when he stopped, looked around, and then sat down. He didn’t want people to think he was crazy just standing there. He then thought about all the people walking around. One girl could be lazy, one guy could be a nerd, and another could be stupid. He didn’t know just by looking at them. He could be dancing on stage and everyone could either overlook the situation or wonder. He could be the foulest guy on the planet, but if he danced, no one would ever know. So, in that moment, he made another decision, one not backed by a label. He went inside the dance school doors, and (when class started) stood proudly En Pointe.
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Mind Travel
I, Jen Byrd, am a mother of six kids. I used to be so quick and sharp, but now I’m half-quick and dull from endless running…particularly after Brad, who likes to do every dangerous thing you could think of just out of curiosity.
One Sunday, John took the kids out for ice-cream while I sat in a chair, started to think of the lake in Zurich, Switzerland, when…I FORGOT WHERE IT WAS!
I reasoned that just because I forgot where the lake was, it didn’t mean I couldn’t think of the lake. But wait! I could play a little game here…I could attempt to remember how I went there last year. And no, I’m not using a GPS thingy. God, could you imagine if my mind wandered while using that little demon?
“Go straight for three miles. Uh oh! I’m re-calculating because you decided to think about coffee. You idiot! Go straight! I’m re-calculating again…stay on track! Don’t think about Kelly’s grades, focus!! Don’t you dare turn me off! Don’t you dare---” (Click!)
Yeah, glad they didn’t come out with a GPS for the mind. Anyway, I started my game at the hotel. I made a…right, then “walked” a few blocks to the tram. Wait, was it a right? No, a left, got on the tram, got off it after a couple more blocks, and, made a…right, and almost went to the Swatch store. But, I immediately continued going right until I saw the gnocchi shop. When I got to the shop, in real life I started to lick my lips at the thought of a fresh gnocchi smothered in a thick, tangy red sauce. But, I switched my mind to going straight. As I crossed the street, I saw the walk way/outdoor dining area filled with people eating, feeding the birds, and just plain enjoying life. Then I saw the lake; just behind the barrier. It was the most peaceful, innocent, swan-filled piece of God’s handiwork a person could ever see. And then, the snow capped mountains! They seemed to say,
“Mom, we’re home!”
Wha? Oh. Well, apparently my time’s over. Eh, it doesn’t matter, I had a nice “trip”; now I gotta go back to work I guess. But it’s not work…no, it’s something I would do forever if I could.
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Cracked By Something Small
She was supposed to be celebrating her 16th birthday, but instead Kara was on her way to jail. She was serving ten years for everything she’d done to stores and the police. From stealing to carrying a loaded gun at the mall, she just couldn’t get it together. Being very close to her twin sister, when she died, that’s when it fell apart for Kara. But, the police wouldn’t take that as an excuse. So, on a rainy Monday morning, Kara was in handcuffs headed towards the prison building. Yes, her face was wet, but it was only because of the rain; she was so hardened she couldn’t even cry. Almost to the stairs, Kara saw someone who was crying, a baby. He dropped his toy. She knew full well she couldn’t pick it up, so she asked a policeman to do it and he did. Just afterwards Kara’s heart cracked open and melted; she fell on the ground with a sharp thrust of tears. Everything bad she did came upon her as she wept. She was wondering how she could’ve done such evil. She wondered if her sister was mad at her. Right then, she felt remorse. Never felt it before, even when she went into that mall. And most of all, she wondered what caused her to want to pick up that toy. Why did she want to help the baby when she was cruel to everyone else?
While she was in jail, she kept thinking of the baby. Thinking about how little things can soften a heart hardened with stress, frustration, anger, and hatred. Little did she realize though, it wasn’t the baby per se, it was her, Kara Johnston, who gave herself hope to go on.
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What Is Greatness?
May Alley woke up and grinned at her first place award hanging on the wall; she felt beautiful. On the way downstairs to make breakfast, she winked at at least ten other first place awards. Ten you say is a bit much? Well, ten is just for upstairs. Downstairs, twenty first places hung all around the house, including five in the living room. Her husband and seven kids told her at least five times to put all these awards in her room, but she wouldn’t have it.
The Alleys lived on a dead end street where the woods were. Everyone on the block went in the woods all the time for close-to-home camping vacations, but not May. Until one Sunday though, her son was giving her a hard time, the birds were screaming, and the house cleaner wasn’t doing her job right. Finally May had enough; she went for that vacation.
She stepped out in the grassy floor and walked down. She heard birds and her own feet making contact with the leaves and…flowers! She almost stepped on a couple of wild flowers. Moving her foot out of the way, she saw purple wild beauties. She looked at them for the longest time. Though it was silly, this thought briefly came and went: Where are these flower’s awards?
Still staring at the flowers, she had the most powerful monologue she ever had with herself ever:
Man, these flowers are absolutely darling! They just stand here all day and all night, in the woods. They never did anything to deserve people’s looking at them. (She sat on the ground.) They were just created by a wonderful God, and that’s why they’re worthy.
All my awards don’t make me a great human being; it’s God and my love for Him that makes me a better woman. I might be uncomfortable with it at first, but I will take down all my awards and put them in one place, my room, where they're supposed to be. I’m not going to be in love with myself anymore, instead, I’ll be mainly in love with the One who loves me the most and…people can love me without seeing a plaque first.
###
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Aimee McCarthy
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Another short story by Aimee
Aimee is also published in “Gallery of Voices” an anthology compiled by Randy Young of Sleepytown Press available in print at online book publishers. My short story is Christine, the lead story in the Inspirational section of the book.
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Friend me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100007120361564&fref=ts&ref=br_tf
Check out my WordPress Blog:
(https://aimeewritergurl.wordpress.com/), you will find my first published short story: Christine (flash fiction) https://aimeewritergurl.wordpress.com/2010/02/08/christine-flash-fiction/
and a TV show pilot I wrote: Judge Moody (bilingual: English/Spanish) TV Show Pilot.
https://aimeewritergurl.wordpress.com/2010/02/20/judge-moody-pilot-show/
> Still waiting for a network to buy the rights.
Click here for List of Stories
36 Week Jam Session was inspired by a writing course.
Most of the stories in that course are in the WordPress site Write Around the Block,
Click here: https://lostofshortstories.wordpress.com/
Click here for List of Stories
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