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Regist.: 12/04/2010
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Posts: 17
 OFFLINE | @gypsy, emily & shanna--great job!
Here is one of mine--
Money doesn't grow on trees. I wish it did. I looked at the lady in line in front of me at the grocery store with her manicured nails and pedicured feet in extravagant sandals. Behind me, another lady, fresh from the tanning booth, stood in expensive designer clothes with perfectly coiffed hair and French fingertips. I gazed down at my ten-year-old shorts with the small rip at the hem and my sneakers with a hole the size of a nickel. This reinforced the sad reality that tree limbs sprout leaves, not money.
At the counter, I made my purchases and ducked out of the store without looking up. The seven dollars left in my purse was not enough for fancy nails, new sneakers or clothes. Breathing deep, I started my 1987 Toyota, with its noisy muffler and headed home.
As I thought of the women in the store, my money situation weighed heavily upon me. My job paid enough to cover the rent and barely enough to eat for the month. Tears flowed down my cheeks.
Entering my two-room apartment, the chips on the ceiling and jagged rips in the wallpaper jumped out at me. An ancient lime-green couch/pull out bed, my mother's scratched coffee table, and thirteen-inch television were the only pieces of furniture in the place. As I looked out the one window to the street below, I wondered how to become a multimillionaire. Having a college degree meant nothing without experience in a big city. My yearly raise wasn't enough to buy a Happy Meal at McDonalds; I couldn’t afford to re-locate and find another job. Even finding a second part-time job proved to be impossible. Silently, I wished I’d inherited millions, but my parents had left only unpaid bills when they died.
I turned on the television to forget about my own problems. As I moved the rabbit ears antenna and prayed it would work, I patiently waited for the picture to focus. Hearing the news with war, murders, robberies, and children dying, only intensified my sense of despair. I needed to get out to clear my head.
Walking through the local park, I watched two children playing catch. I sat on the cool grass observing their cheerfulness, wondering if I ever was that happy.
"Want to play?" one yelled. I turned around thinking the little boy was addressing another child.
"Me?" I asked.
"Yeah, we could play 'Monkey in the Middle'. You know how to play?"
"Sure!" I couldn't believe that I, an adult, would be asked to play a child's game, but I longed to be involved.
As the hours ticked by, I found myself not caring about money.
"You are wonderful with my kids." The voice made me jump. I spun around and saw a well-dressed lady in front of me.
"I love kids," I mumbled and tried not to check out her fingernails.
"I'm actually looking for a new babysitter four nights a week from 4:30 till 9:30pm. Would you be interested?" she asked.
"You don't know anything about me ..." I began.
"My kids like you. I’ve seen you here before and watched you with them today. They are a great judge of character and so am I. I’d pay $20 an hour and dinners."
My mouth dropped open. I couldn't imagine earning so much money, with a daily meal provided as well.
"I'd love to! I get out of my current job at four everyday, so this is perfect. I'm Lilly, by the way." I shook hands with my new employer, who introduced herself as Angel Treese. I grinned at her name, and my smile widened when I noticed her not-so-perfectly-done fingernails. |
A Short Story Thread
OFFLINE
Originally Posted by Maureen Braman-Eckerle:
I can realate
