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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Bold (emotionally) (08/30/07)

TITLE: Poetic Justice
By Sara Harricharan


Private voice lessons, $50 for 15 minutes, twice per week. Applicants must be eighteen or older and apply in person between 7am-3pm.

I don’t know why that ad jumped out at me this morning. It is a dream that is far too precious to share with anyone.

Maybe it had something to do with the songs in my head, forever unwritten, or the singing career I’d never pursued.

Six years of raising an adorable, curly-headed son, led to a practiced lack of patience, solitude and sanity.

Enrolling him in first grade had left my heart broken in two on the first day as I watched him hurry up the school steps, Spiderman backpack bouncing as he went. He wasn’t really a bad boy, just needy, like his father.

I threw the paper in the trash before it could stick in my head. I’d given up a great bundle of dreams to marry Todd. He’d kept his end of the bargain by finding a decent, well-paying, part-time job and a nice little house.

A part-time had turned into a full-time, our “nice little house”, evolved into lovely two-story and the charming little baby turned me into an old woman. “It’s poetic justice.” I muttered, pausing long enough to scribble that line on the notepad stuck to the fridge.

Dinner was a few hours away, I’d barely have time to cook once everything else was done. Pouring the last of my tea down the sink, I headed for the laundry room.


I’d heard the banging and scraping of Todd’s usual arrival, but opted to stay with my frying pan and finish the treat I knew he would be hoping for.

He appeared in the doorway and I offered the tray, happy when he helped himself to two slices of fried green tomatoes. “Check in on Spiderman junior and see if he’s ready for dinner.”

Todd grinned. “My stomach is rumbling worse than the whole crew turning out for the morning shift.” He headed for the stairs.

I carried the platter to the table. I couldn’t ask him about the ad. I’d never told him I wanted to sing. Or write songs someone else could sing.

By the time I worked up the nerve to ask him, he was washing dishes, having sent our little shadow upstairs to brush his teeth.

Grabbing a towel, I selected a wet plate, deciding to approach the topic from something innocent. “Todd, what do you think of my voice?”

“Your voice?” Bushy eyebrows scrunched up to his hairline. “What about it?” Concern spilled into his light blue eyes.

“Does it sound…nice?” The question sounded shallow as I left the dishtowel, moving to the other end of the kitchen to put the plate away.

Confusion melted away and he chuckled. “Like music to my ears.”

Right. I took a deep breath. “Speaking of music, there’s an ad for voice lessons in the newspa-”

“The one that’s been there since last week that charges you fifty bucks for ten minutes?” Something crashed in the sink.

I stuck my head in the pantry. “Fifteen minutes actually, nevermind.” Why, oh, why can’t I just ask him?

My creative self wilted as he connected the dots. “You want to take voice lessons?”

I mumbled my answer into a box of cornflakes. A wet dishtowel hit me from behind. I picked it up with two fingers and turned to look at him.

He was smiling. I made myself mirror the image and adopt the same joking tone. “Don’t tell me, you’ve signed me up already.” I threw the towel back, returning to my organizing of cereal boxes.

“I did actually.” Todd sputtered, from beneath the towel. “You start at two tomorrow.”

My brain short-circuited along with my creative self. I dropped the Cheerios, turning directly into Todd, who’d come to see what was so interesting in the pantry.

“Is that too late? I can call and reschedule if you want.” Todd waved a hand in front of my face. “Angel?”

I shook my head. “How did you know?”

He gently steered me out of the pantry. “You’re always singing. I thought it would be a nice treat. Your voice matches your name…Angel.”

I whispered my thanks into his shoulder, mentally banishing the selfish gnome that had kept me bound to my fears. It’s poetic justice…

Copyright 2007

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This article has been read 1303 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Dee Yoder 09/06/07
What a cool husband! I like the characters you've created in this story. The heart of the hard-working Mom, who feels she's lost something of herself in the giving to her family, really comes through. And the husband with his knowledge of what will make her happy had me smiling. Very charming!
Janice Cartwright09/07/07
Another great entry. So many great entries this time I feel mine sinking lower and lower! I do rejoice with the others though!! It's an honor to be among pro's!!
Verna Cole Mitchell 09/08/07
I love this story--boldness and romance just meshed together so nicely.
Sharlyn Guthrie09/09/07
I enjoy the humor and playful family interaction in this piece as well as all the vivid detailing...spiderman backpack, cheerios, etc. Delightful to read.
Betty Castleberry09/10/07
Now *that* is a caring husband. This was a really good read. Entertaining, and a sweet message, too. Five stars from me.
Laurie Walker09/12/07
This is on such the same level as me and my hubby and my writing.

Except for the two story house, and add a part-time job to the full time...and a few more kids...oh well. Maybe not *quite* as similar ;)
Patty Wysong09/12/07
I liked hearing her inner dialog as they talked back and forth. Their personalities really shone through--good job!!
Loren T. Lowery09/12/07
Bold enough to share a dream with a loved one and have that loved one support you - can there be a greater love?
Great job; and, if its a true story, good-luck with the lessons!
Amy Michelle Wiley 09/12/07
What a wonderful story! Very realistic dialog and inner thoughts--well done!
Edy T Johnson 11/19/07
I came calling to thank you for leaving such a kind comment on my "Thanks Living" story (which I did already use for our church's November newsletter :). And, I discovered this sweet story of yours which I enjoyed reading very much. The fact her husband surprised her with the very thing she wanted to ask of him is so delightful. It's just like God to do something like that! Thank you for the enjoyable read, and for your comment, which I appreciate very much.
Betsy Markman08/22/08
I really enjoyed this story; not just the wonderful plot line, but also your choice of wording. I could feel her "creative self wilting" right along with her dreams, only to be revived by a fresh watering of husbandly love. Good stuff.