Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: BRAG (04/20/17)
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TITLE: I Win, I Win...I Really Win! | Previous Challenge Entry
By C D Swanson
04/20/17 -
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Marcy stood toe to toe eyeing her former best friend Janie Friedman.
“Well? Did you hear me? Are you going to do it or not? I’m double daring you.” Janie moved closer.
“Why should I go? Even if I do, you’ll lie just like you always do.” Mucus dripped from her bright red nose. Marcy licked her upper lip before shoving Janie to the ground. “I hate you!”
A Weeping Willow tree cascaded in the warm summer breeze, stood majestically over the two girls. Janie grabbed a low lying branch as she pulled herself to her feet. Her Pinafore dress, moments earlier, crisp and white, now splattered with moss and grass.
“Look! Look at what you did to my dress! My mother will tan my hide!”
“Good! You deserve it!”
Marcy moved quickly making a clear getaway. She stopped behind an old Oak tree peeping at the rickety old log cabin straight ahead. A dim light was visible in the rear of the house. Her heart pounded as she heard Janie’s words in her head. “If you go into that old witch’s house I’ll give you my prize collection of Barbie dolls, and my Nancy Drew books. I double dare you.”
Suddenly, as if carried by an invisible force, she was brought before the old crooked door of the dreaded Cabin. With shaking hand she pushed the doorbell. Her feet felt as if they were nailed to the ground. She stared wide-eyed at the green door…she knew the witch was about to answer. How would she protect herself? The door inched open slowly…Marcy closed her eyes.
“Hello, what can I do for you?”
Marcy’s eyes popped. This can’t be the old witch. This was a pretty old lady dressed in nice clothes.
“Are you okay? Are you lost?”
“I—um—I—“
The pretty old lady had a magical and pleasant laugh. “Oh, I see. You thought an old witch lady lived here, and you're surprised to see me instead. Does that sound about right?”
“Yes. I—that is, um—all the kids in the neighborhood…. always though this old log cabin had an old witch in it. We—”
The pretty lady held her hand up. “It’s okay. That old lady you thought was a witch was actually my mother. She passed away two months ago.”
Marcy felt happy to hear the old lady witch wasn’t going to be a threat after all. But, then she felt kind of bad to have such thoughts.
“Well, if you’re her daughter, how come you…”
“Listen, why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring out some cookies and milk. There’s something I’d like for you to see. Does that sound okay? Do you have some time?”
“I guess…okay. I’m really not supposed to take things from strangers. But, if it’s cookies, I guess it’s okay.”
Marcy sat on the swinging bench thinking aloud. "Janie better give me her Barbie dolls and the Nancy Drew Collection. Or else."
The pretty lady appeared with chocolate chip cookies and milk. “Here you go.
My name is Cathy Banner.”
“I'm Marcy.”
“Glad to know you.”
Cookie crumbs fell from Marcy's mouth as she nodded.
“I’d like you to see this photo album.”
“Who's that little girl with the pretty lady?”
“That’s me as a child, and that’s my mother.”
“You mean the old witch that lived here?”
“Well, the woman that lived here, yes…”
“Gee, she was a pretty lady. She looks like you.”
“Thank you. Yes, I look like my mom. She got old, and tired, and didn’t fix herself up anymore. But, I promise you she wasn’t a witch.”
“Gee, sorry I said those horrible things.”
“It’s okay. But, do you see how sometimes things aren’t what they appear to be?”
“How come she got so old?”
“If we’re fortunate, we'll all get a chance to get old.”
“Getting old is good?” Marcy stopped chewing as she waited for the answer.
“Sure. And, we get wiser too.” She laughed then added, “Well, some of us do.”
“I gotta go.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
“Okay.”
“Yes, and if you hurry, you might be able to collect all of your prizes for coming out to the old witch’s house. Just try not to brag too much, God doesn’t like that.”
Marcy’s mouth dropped before she turned to run as fast as her legs could carry her…
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Wing His Words
It evoked memories of the scary tales we heard as kids about the "menacing" old characters who lived in derelict gold rush-era cottages near our school. We knew to avoid them, but they proved to be harmless.
Your title is great, and I hope it proves to be prophetic from a judging perspective...