Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Laughter (10/18/04)
TITLE: Life's Ribbon By Marina Rojas 10/24/04 |
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Called into the presence of Hurricane Mom, the girls stand in silence as they are being yelled at for something they did or did not do. The Hurricane’s normally placid face is red with anger; her nostrils flaring like a bull after a matador. She is tossing papers, jackets, shoes, and talking so fast none of them can really understand her. Suddenly, it happens. Something about the whole scene has hit one of girls as funny, and she begins to giggle uncontrollably. Trying hard to stifle the chuckles causes the Hurricane to stop and glare at her. Her older sister tries to salvage the moment, and looks at the girl to accusingly proclaim, “What’s wrong with you? This is serious!” With her bottom lip stuck out in a defiant grimace towards her sister and a no-nonsense look back at their mother, that does it. Every single one of them breaks out in hysterics. The Hurricane is laughing so hard, she banishes them from her sight as she wipes away the tears caused by the merriment. She has laughed so much she can’t even remember what she was mad about in the first place.
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The navy blue suit stays in the plastic cocoon provided by the dry cleaners until the very last minute. Continually glancing at the clock, she nervously practices her interview lines. This is an important chance for a promotion. “I have the finest qualities you can look for in a leader. I am able to encourage and motivate staff to go places they’ve never been before. I am confident that I will be able to lead the personnel to new areas of growth.” It is “the” line she’s practiced over and over again.
With the interview done, she smiles remembering that “the” line had come out perfectly on cue. She was confident that she would be a top contender for the supervisor’s job. Shaking the interview panel members’ hands, she turns to leave the room. Grabbing the door handle, she looks back and smiles, letting them feel the confidence oozing out from out all around her. Two steps forward and the door closes behind her. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. She has just walked into a broom closet. There was nothing else to do but laugh.
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They were sitting next to her dying mother. Her brother’s hands held the old woman mother as if she were a little baby. She had fallen asleep, so they sat there as each labored breath escaped her lips. The girl looked into her brother’s blue eyes, giving him a weak smile. He turned his face to her and announced, “I’ve always been her favorite, you know.” Somehow, the bearded gray haired man in front of her became the freckled-face bucktooth 7 year old who had caused her as much grief as a little brother could possibly cause. “No, you were the baby. She just felt sorry for you.” Her retort was quickly answered with her brother pulling her hair. She tried to push him off the chair, so she could grab her mother’s hand, but ended up having to be happy with sticking her tongue out at him as their mother stirred, her eyes opened. “Mom!” they practically jumped on her at the same time, “I’m your favorite, aren’t I? I’m your favorite huh, Mom?” The old woman turned her head towards the battling siblings, and smiled, reaching out to them both. “My dear children,” she said, “I was never really fond of either one of you, but I couldn’t talk anyone into taking you home with them, so I was kind of stuck with you both.” She gave them a loving grin, and then dramatically turned her face away to try and hide the fact that she was laughing.
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Laughter is an attribute of God, given to us to weave a comforting thread through our lives in times of joy, anger, nervousness, heartache, and grief. And what’s strange, is that there’s nothing funny about that!
2004©Marina Rojas