Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: STORM (10/05/17)
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TITLE: An Approaching Storm | Previous Challenge Entry
By Angela Linton
10/12/17 -
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Dressed in a black pants suit and a pair of black low heel shoes, she quickly walked over to the white painted front door and peered through the peephole. She stood there for a few seconds before she saw her husband and ten-year-old son speed walking to the front door.
They were late in returning home from the Mall and as she waited for them to return, she fought with the anger that arose with every minute that passed.
“Please,” she pleaded with God, “please don’t let me be so angry.”
“Sorry for being late, honey, we...,” her husband begun as he hurried through the opened door, after their son.
“It’s okay,” she said, cutting him off, “I have to leave right now.”
She bends and kissed their son on his forehead.
“Okay,” her husband said, “here you go.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the car key from his hand.
She hurriedly kissed him on the cheek and rushed through the still opened door.
Five minutes later, Monica, was speeding down the uncongested road.
“Now I’m going to be late for the interview. He knows how much I want this job,” she said, aloud to the empty car, “why couldn’t he just get back home on time?”
She was still talking aloud when she approached a turn in the road and saw a pedestrian standing at one end of the crossing lines, waiting for a vehicle to stop and allow her to cross safely.
“Sorry,” she said, to the empty car, as she tightened the already tight gap between her and the purple minivan in front of her, “someone else will stop for you.”
She soon overtook the minivan but she was forced to lower her speed because she ended up behind the driver of a red car who was driving below the speed limit.
“Drive, or get out of the way,” she said, aloud, as she gives in to the urge to blow her horn.
She soon overtook the car only to face the same situation two more times before pulling into the parking lot of her destination. She parked the car and glanced at the time on the black and chrome dashboard. She had ten more minutes to go but she would only need five of it.
Monica caught herself breathing heavily and she saw that her hands on the steering wheel were shaking. She suddenly burst out into tears but she fought to stop herself from crying. She continued to fight as mucus filled her nostrils. She wiped away the tears that had escaped and after regaining her composure, she stepped out of the car.
She was walking for a few seconds when she heard someone calling her name. She turned into the direction of the voice and saw Chelsea, a friend whom she had not seen or spoken to in a couple of years. She glanced down at her watch. She had only five minutes to get to her interview on time.
“I’m sorry,” she said to the Chelsea, “I’ll like to catch up with you, but I’ll be late for an interview if I stop to talk right now.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Chelsea said, jogging into pace with her.
“I just want to say that I’m so sorry about your sister’s sudden passing,” Chelsea said, “here, please, give me a call and maybe we can grab a pizza or something.”
Monica took the card from between her fingers before briefly hugging her as she fought to keep tears from entering her eyes.
“Thank you,” Monica, whispered, “I’ll call you,” she then turned and ran the rest of the way into the building.
“Oh Lord,” she pleaded, as she ran, “please help me, I don’t want to lose it. I am going to lose it.”
She was on time for the interview.
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There were a couple of verb tense inconsistencies that through me off.
I hate to be late so I felt for the MC.
It has been said that God is never late even if we are.
Yes, our fears or imagined fears cause many storms in our lives.
A story any of us might have lived.