Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: PROCRASTINATE (08/04/16)
TITLE: Precious Time
By Francie Snell
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Well over an hour later, with the morning sun lighting up the room, she sat up in bed and looked at the clock. Neon green numbers glared the news she had overslept…again. She sighed with disappointment and then spotted a note lying next to the clock. On the note it read: Remember the Letter.
Yes, she thought,I can't forget; I gotta get it done. Determined, she slid out of bed and into her slippers, then out the door and down the hall. As she shuffled across the hard wood kitchen floor, the aroma of the fresh brew greeted her like a dear friend. An empty coffee mug was conveniently placed next to the coffee maker. Stuck to its side was a bright pink sticky note with a message which read:Write it today. Don't wait any longer.
After filling the cup, she blew through the steam and carefully took two short sips of the hot caffeine, and then ambled down the hall to the office.
It had been a long time since she had written to him, or they had even spoken. Words and emotions collided in her mind as she walked across the room to her desk.
She sunk down in front of the computer and stared at the empty screen. Where should I start?, She pondered.He'll probably still think I'm crazy whatever I say.Tears welled in her eyes.How should I do this Lord?
She sighed and stood, and then started out the door and down the hallway to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she passed by the refrigerator, she spied a note stuck to its door. In bold letters, it read:What if today is all we have. Tomorrow might be too late.
She headed back down the hall to the office.
Sitting again at the computer, she nudged her screen slightly to the right, just so, and then adjusted her chair slightly higher. Then after she obsessively placed every miscellaneous paper, pen, and paperclip on the desk in their designated locations, she picked up her cup of coffee and took another sip. With the desk now neatly organized, she now believed she was ready. She put her cup down and sat up straight. With her fingers firmly set on the keyboard, like a master pianist, she began to play her story.
Minutes became hours as she pecked the keys in a soulful message flowing from her heart. She tried to explain to him why things had happened the way they did after the divorce twenty years earlier. Her tail of sorrow poured out like blood falling down on the page. And as the weight of guilt sat heavily on her shoulders, memories of lost opportunities surfaced in her mind. She punched the keys with shame.
How many times could she type that she loved him before he would role his eyes at her words? Would he understand how sorry she was for her part in their failed relationship? She wanted to see him if only for a short visit, however, she knew he didn't share the same sentiment. Even so, she typed and she cried, and poured out her sole, angry she had allowed so much precious time to pass by.
The sun was going down in the sky when she finished. Her heart raced as she drove down the street and into the parking space five minutes before last pick-up. Through the door she hurried into the post office with the letter in her hand, and stood frozen in front of the receptacle. She pondered one last thought. Then, with shaky hands, she lifted the metal cover and slid the letter through the narrow opening. It was done. She could finally breathe. Now it was up to him. Hopefully, her son would read the letter with forgiveness in his heart.
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