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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of ďAll that Glitters is Not GoldĒ (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (01/24/08)

TITLE: Moldy Dream
By Rhonda Clark
01/27/08


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I canít believe this. I just canít believe it. This is such a dismal and depressing sight. Pulverized ceramic and sheetrock floats in the air like baby powder. It attempts to coat to the slimy, black growth breeding inside my walls to no avail. My stomach lurches at the offensive odor emitting from the nasty ooze.

My spirits sink and carry my body to the floor. A watery film blurs my vision and I swipe my shirtsleeves across my eyes. I feel a tourniquet closing off my throat and my chin quivers uncontrollably. The flood of emotion Iíve been battling bursts forth. My body shudders as my wails reverberate off the vaulted ceiling. This was my dream bathroom, the sparkling diamond that sealed the deal on the purchase of this house. Now, six months later, my dream sits in a dirty heap of waste. There are no words adequate to express my disillusionment, nor comfort in the world for my crushed spirit and broken heart.

The day I viewed this property, I knew I was home. Iíve lived in smaller apartments than this bathroom, and visited less luxurious spas. Several windows adorned the solarium-like space, allowing both morning and afternoon sunlight to stream in. Pale limestone floor accented warm, honey-colored ash cabinets and sage green walls. I could picture myself relaxing in the two-person garden spa tub. Performing my morning routine in front of the brightly lit mirror would be heaven. This was the house and bathroom for me.

Never once did I notice any tiny, black dot. The realtor or home inspector didnít see any either. Only after I settled in did I discover a dark spot that refused eviction by any cleaning product. A smelly, vile, repulsive growth was masquerading as a beautiful retreat. My dream come true had turned into chaff in the wind and blew away.

Once again, I run my shirtsleeves across my eyes and look at the ugly mess. Suddenly I felt Godís peace warm the cold, musty room and I remember His plans donít generally reflect my dreams.


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This article has been read 569 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Joanne Sher 02/01/08
A very visual piece - and effective. Your descriptions were great.
Jan Ackerson 02/02/08
Oh wow--how horrifying! I actually have a friend who had to move out of her house for weeks while it was "de-molded", and it caused all sorts of health problems.

I saw a parallel to depression here--don't know if it was intended or not, but it really sang out to me. Excellent descriptions, and I love the hope at the end.
Laury Hubrich 02/04/08
This is very well-written. I can't imagine losing a house to mold. Very creative take on the topic!
Laury