|BWS Stories - Contest Winners|
Contest Winners - May 2010 Writing Contest - Honorable Mention Winner!
American, living in Germany,
with many hats. Before going out to show a house, I usually ask Hubby; “Do I
look like a real-estate agent?” My
normal look is a soiled t-shirt, from one of my three grandchildren. Then there
is my golfing cap, my floppy garden hat, and last but not least, my thinker’s
cap, which I need when writing a story. Yup, the latter is my all-time favorite
May 2010 Writing Contest - Honorable Mention Winner!
“Hey Grandma catch this!” Deep hoarse laughter bellowed out of the car window.
“Oh man, does she ever need it!”
I dropped my shopping bags, to catch a neon pink flying object.
“What is it?” I cried, stepping back as the car suddenly lifted in the
air and hovered above me.
“Press the back button to the
year you would change in your life!”
“What the….! Who are you?”
“Human behaviour analyticians,
Honey Pie!” They croaked, and off they
twirled, till they were just a speck in the clouds.
I looked around the Filene’s parking lot. Empty! No witness in sight! The
object felt heavy in the palm of my hand. It looked like a remote. In the
middle of the display a back button
I stuffed the remote in my purse and quickly drove home. My three grandchildren
were spending the day with me, and I was late all ready.
After clearing the picnic dishes and sending the children off to play in
the garden, I snuggled into my porch swing. I couldn’t believe I had the
incredible opportunity to zap 43 years back to my college freshmen year! I now knew
what I should study; film making, scriptwriting, and my biggest passion of all;
illustrating and writing children’s books.
But wait! I held the remote to my heart.
Happy thoughts of me throwing my graduation cap in the air, were quickly
pushed aside, as I pictured myself seeking a job in a world of hungry writers
racing, neck to neck, to renowned agents and publishers. Fast forward. I see
myself falling in love. Where will that be? Los Angeles? New York? Will the decision; career or
children be a burden to me? I have struggled so hard to come so far. How could
I ever give up this profession, this calling? How could I do both?
Fresh apple blossom scents spread in the warm spring breeze. I watched my three grandchildren. A sudden
twinge shot through my heart. Their voices sounded hollow, their bright clothes
began to fade. I realized they never would exist if I change my past.
My granddaughter skipped up the porch steps and gently took my hand. I quickly
stuffed the remote between the Daisies. She led me to the picnic blanket where
my two grandsons were patiently waiting.
“Tell us another story, Grandma, poleeeeease.”
With hopeful wide eyes, they cuddled onto my lap. Together, we entered a
fantasy world of fairies and magic spells. I smiled down at their little
“Look Grandma!” Michael pointed towards our pond. On the edge of a rock
sat a fat, grinning, bull frog. Between his front webbed feet, a pink remote
gleamed in the sun.
“Rivet” he croaked. Or was it;
“Write it”? With a neon rainbow splash, he leaped into the pond, remote and
Good idea, I chuckled. I should
write those fairytales down!
And the moral of the story?
No dream is too remote. And
that ain’t no bull….frog.