by Michael Seese
I had a busy day yesterday. Kids activities in the morning. Paying bills in the afternoon. And a party at night. (A friend was celebrating his conquest of Mount Kilimanjaro.) I really hoped I would be able to find time to write something for Janet Reid's latest contest, and ...
I had come up with the idea for this story a day or two prior. And while getting ready for the party, I took a look at the words:
Realizing that creak fit in perfectly with that idea, I started writing it on my phone. In about 10 minutes, I had "sacrifices."
I'm not allowed to speak when I'm hiding in the closet, though sometimes I talk real quiet to Raggedy Ann.
“How are you, Best Friend?” I ask her.
“I had one hell of a week.”
“You said a bad word!”
“Momma says that all the time.”
Raggedy Ann is right. Momma says lots of things I don't understand. Like money being tight.
But Momma loves me, even when she's nagging me. I know, because she says she'd do anything to keep me.
Once the bed stops creaking, I know he'll be leaving soon. Then Momma buys me a new toy.
We'll know tomorrow around 7:00 a.m. how I did.