Photo © 2011 Gerald Pereira CC BY 2.0
Something a little different today. I signed up to take part in Tony Noland’s Great April Fool’s Day #FridayFlash Blogswap. Tony paired me up with Danielle La Paglia, who has in gracious silence endured my haphazard attempt at keeping to a deadline.
(Oy. Just be thankful you’re not my publisher.)
Danielle and I both wrote a story around the same prompt. I’m posting hers here, and she’s posting my story over on her blog. Tony gave us the following prompt to inspire our stories: “three free tickets to a movie.”
-TimK
Substitute
Sandy fingered the tickets in her coat pocket, sliding their slick backs together as she stared at the house. It had seemed like such a good idea when she’d stopped by the theater two days ago, but the thin slips of paper felt inadequate and meaningless now. What good were three free tickets when they’d lost so much? She thought of putting the car in drive and heading home, but John stepped onto the porch and waived. There was no turning back.
A gust of wind whipped her hair across her face as she stepped from the car. The icy blast beat against her exposed cheeks and sent a flurry of snowflakes into the car before she could slam the door shut. Even the wind knew it was a bad idea.
She ran to the shelter of the porch, hoping to sneak a quick hug from John, a small shot of courage and comfort to push her through. But Maddy shoved the screen door open and ushered her siblings onto the porch. Sorrow hung on them like a heavy cloak, paling their skin, darkening the shadows in their eyes. Even seven-year-old Emily had lost her sparkle. The bright pink smile she used to wear was a soft peach line tugged down at the corners.
Sandy knew she was a poor substitute for the mother they’d lost. She wasn’t trying to replace her. She only hoped to give them a break from the reality that had been forced upon them, even if it was only for a few hours. But seeing their somber expressions, she felt the sting of her mistake. Only time would make it better, not her, not this. She wanted to run, make a hasty retreat and leave them to what was left of their broken family, but John spoke.
“You girls behave and try to have a good time.” He hugged each one in turn then Maddy hustled them down the steps. “Thank you,” he said and squeezed Sandy’s hand. They’d been dating nearly a year and, despite the three-year-old divorce settlement, it was still hard on the girls. Sandy gave a weak smile then jogged to the car.
They rode in near silence to the theater. Each of Sandy’s attempts at conversation were shut down with a one-word answer or a half-hearted nod. Resigned to their silence, she turned on the radio and let the music try to warm the stale atmosphere instead.
As they stepped into the lobby, Emily and Sarah’s faces brightened. At seven and nine, they were amazed at the beauty of the grand theater, pointing to heavy velvet curtains held back with gold ropes and the scrolling wood ornaments decorating the walls. Then they lifted their faces in wonder at the elaborately painted ceiling. The knot in Sandy’s stomach loosened until her eyes met Maddy’s. The fourteen-year-old’s face was set in a cold stare. It took all of Sandy’s strength to stand her ground and force a smile.
An usher finally led them to their seats where they once again sat in silence with only the occasional whisper from the little ones pointing out some new discovery. The house lights eventually dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. The first bars of music filled the room. The curtain rose, and the ballerinas took the stage.
Emily and Sarah were spellbound. Their eyes glued to the dancers—children twirled across the stage, tin soldiers came to life, and a sugar plum fairy enchanted them all. The glow in their eyes raised a lump in Sandy’s throat. She’d done the right thing. And as the saying went, two out of three wasn’t bad.
Emily and Sarah’s giggles and high-pitched chatter filled the car on the ride home, a warm contrast to the start of their journey. When they pulled into the driveway, the wind had died, leaving a peaceful blanket of snow across the yard and roof top. The younger girls clutched their shiny red nutcrackers and hugged Sandy goodbye. Again Maddy ushered them through the door as John and Sandy stood on the porch.
“Thank you for this. Their smiles…” His voice cracked; tears glistened in his eyes.
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her cheek then followed the girls inside. She was almost to the car when the screen door slammed behind her. She spun to find Maddy jogging down the steps.
“Sandy?” Her face was softer, her eyes wider, more innocent somehow.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” Maddy gave a soft smile then ran back into the house.
Sandy stood beside her car letting the words of a child warm her. Today wasn’t a substitute, but it had been a welcome reprieve, and that was more than enough for her.
Now feeling slightly more committed to my own careful reading practices having read this, and a stop at forwardenergyactivated reinforced that commitment, content that models the kind of attention it deserves is content that calibrates the reader and this site has clearly raised my own bar for what to bring to good writing today.
¡Dios mío, sigo temblando de la emoción! Acá les escribe Gustavo desde Luque.
Como apostador empedernido que llora sangre por su selección, mi señora
me quiere echar de casa por lo que apuesto, pero no me importa absolutamente nada.
Al empezar el campeonato, casi me da un infarto cuando los yanquis nos metieron ese humillante 4-1.
Pero como manda nuestra historia, resurgimos de las cenizas: sufrimos
como unos condenados para clavarle el 1-0 a Turquía y después aguantamos a muerte para sacar ese 0-0 contra Australia.
¡Lo que vivimos contra los alemanes fue épico, digno de
una película! El mundo entero de los pronósticos nos daba por muertos, pero aguantamos
como verdaderos leones el 1-1 hasta el final de la prórroga.
¡Y en los penales, mandamos a los alemanes a llorar a su
casa ganando 4-3!
¡Me forré de plata apostando al batacazo y rompiendo todos
los pronósticos!
Se viene el monstruo de Francia en octavos y le voy a
meter los ahorros de toda mi vida a Paraguay sin pensarlo.
¡Las cuotas dicen que somos boleta, pero mi corazón sabe que ganamos!
¡A dejar hasta la última gota de sangre, vamos mi Paraguay querido!
Наркологическая помощь клиники направлена не только на снятие острого состояния, но и на дальнейшее лечение алкогольной зависимости. Вывод из запоя на дому подходит пациенту, если нет признаков тяжелого отравления, психоза, судорог и опасных осложнений. Если состояние больного тяжелое, врач может рекомендовать лечение в стационаре клиники, где пациент находится под наблюдением медицинской команды, а терапия проходит безопаснее.
Детальнее – нарколог вывод из запоя в сочи
Мы работаем ежедневно, без выходных, поэтому позвонить по телефону можно сейчас, ночью, утром, в праздники и в любой сложный момент. Бесплатная консультация помогает понять, нужна ли капельница, детоксикация, вывод из запоя, госпитализация в стационар, прием в клинике, кодирование, психотерапия, реабилитация или дальнейшее лечение зависимости.
Изучить вопрос глубже – нарколог на дом цена казань
Came in tired from a long day and the writing held my attention anyway, and a stop at actionwithstructure kept that going, content that can engage a fatigued reader is doing something right because most online reading happens in suboptimal conditions like that one and quality content adapts to it without complaint.
Useful reading material, the kind I can hand off to someone newer to the topic without worrying about confusing them, and a quick look at actionwithclarityfirst confirmed the same beginner friendly tone runs throughout the site which is great for sharing with people just starting their learning journey on this particular topic.
Now planning a longer reading session for the archives, and a stop at clarityfirstmove confirmed the archives are worth that longer commitment, sites with archives I want to read deliberately rather than just sample are rare and this one has clearly earned that level of interest based on the consistency of what I have already read.
Здорова, народ Ситуация критическая Жена в истерике Таблетки не помогают Короче, врачи вытащили с того света — лечение запоя в стационаре полный курс Выписали через 5 дней без ломки В общем, телефон и цены тут — запой стационар цены https://vyvod-iz-zapoya-v-staczionare-nizhnij-novgorod-jkp.ru Стационар — это реальный выход Перешлите тем кто в такой же ситуации
Доброго дня. Мой отец уже четвёртые сутки в запое. Мать в панике. В диспансер тащить — позор. Короче, спасла эта бригада — выведение из запоя на дому анонимно. Через пару часов человек пришёл в себя. В общем, не потеряйте — вывод из запоя на дому вывод из запоя на дому Каждый час ухудшает состояние. Перешлите тем, кто рядом с бедой.
Found the rhythm of the prose particularly enjoyable on this read through, and a look at forwardmotionactivated kept that musical quality going across the related pages, sentence rhythm is something most blog writers ignore but it makes a real difference in how content lands with the careful reader who cares.
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