Amy C over at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie over at Tink's Place
have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you post your story on Friday.
And here is the nineteenth picture prompt:
have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you post your story on Friday.
And here is the nineteenth picture prompt:
Here is my story.
Nine Ladies Dancing
By Michelle Greathouse
Elan checked the number 57 attached to her suit and eyed the other girls in line. She had been working for this opportunity for as long as she could remember, and she was determined not to blow it.
Her mother still has pictures of her in the first tutu she ever put on - at the tender age of 2. And now Elan was auditioning for a role in The Nutcracker - this would make her career.
The director called for the first wave and twenty girls ran on stage. Elan could not see anything from her position in the line, but she heard the music start and all too quickly stop.
Trying to stay calm, Elan waited through three more calls before it was time for her to rush on stage. The music started and she danced - danced with everything she had, all of her hopes and dreams were tied up in that one short dance.
All too soon the music stopped and she followed the other dancers off stage. Now it was time to wait.
Quicker than she would have expected the stage manager called everyone on stage and the girls squeezed together, holding hands and crossing fingers.
“Thank you all for coming out today. We appreciate your interest, but as you know, we only have nine positions available. If I call your number the position is yours, everyone else, keep up the hard work and we’ll see you next time.”
It was so quiet on that stage you could hear a pin drop.
“Okay, here we go: numbers 8, 15, 21, 22, 37, 40, 45, 57, and 60 - rehearsals start tonight at 6:00, don’t be late.”
Elan took a deep breath, walked backstage and grabbed her bag with shaking hands, and pulled out her cell phone. She sat down and dialed the phone.
“Mom, I made it.”
The End
Word Count: 315
Okay, so I tried to be sweet and uplifting. LOL. I know, it’s not me. But I didn’t think blood and guts were appropriate for Christmas. :)
So Merry Christmas everyone!
M
4 comments:
Wow Michelle you were truly sweet :) what a cute story, did not expect that ;)
An HEA! Nice for the holidays! I like the name Elan. Definitely keeping it in mind for a story.
B,
I tried. LOL
Julia,
I think it is my first HEA. LOL I have no idea where the name came from, glad you like it. :)
Merry Christmas!!
M
Hi Michelle!
It truly is sweet and I love it! All the hopes and dreams wrapped up like a Christmas present, the paper ready to be ripped away with her heart... should be not be one of the lucky.
Excellent Michelle!
((hugs))
Dottie :)
Post a Comment