Following last week’s blog post about Fattening the Seeds, I have managed to work out the rest of the section. Without further ado… below is the full-blown ‘Corn Cob’.
Copyright © 2024 Maria McDonald
She had become increasingly exasperated by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs. Having thought of at least half-a-dozen excuses – from a vague malady to outright I-don’t-wanna, the scenario playing inside her head involved each one being put through a gamut of tests and scrutinized under a psychological microscope before being deemed inadequate and ineffective. No longer seeing the merit of feigning anything to gain attention, she had emitted one jaw-cracking yawn after another in a slightly exaggerated manner and rubbed her bleary eyes deliberately repeatedly all throughout breakfast. Whilst she had fully anticipated utter indifference from the parent she had occasionally likened to a drill sergeant, to have her usually doting father seemingly take no notice, let alone comment on her less-than-ideal state filled her with the overwhelming urge to revert to her five-year-old bratty tendencies; from gripping her father by the shoulder and screaming right at his face to chucking the biggest hissy fit, and everything in-between.
She ground her lower jaw and clenched her fisted hand tighter as she let out a slightly huffing breath for the seventeenth time – at least – since her father backed the Volvo out of the driveway.
“You couldn’t write me a note, could you?” Lizzy asked as her father swerved the car into the nearest parking bay, the terror that had gripped her from the moment she woke up churning her stomach and prickling the hairs on the back of her neck once more.
“Excusing me out of school?”
She pried her stare away from the window, feeling her father’s eyes on her even before she cast her imploring gaze at him.
“Just for today?” Lizzy added, her voice small and fearful.
Though her mind was already reciting the gentle reminder on standing her ground against injustice that had been instilled in her since a very young age, she stoked the small flicker of hope within as one corner of her father’s lips curled up to a lopsided smile, his look every bit sympathetic.
“I would, Lizzy, if I believe it would solve all of your problems.”
The hands tightly wringing her backpack and the breath she had subconsciously held failed to soften the blow. Still nursing the sucker punch of her father’s words, Lizzy schooled every muscle on her face from scowling as her father reached across the car console and tucked a small section of her hair behind her ear. With tears glazing her vision, her customary farewell kiss was nothing more than a barely there graze on her father’s cheek before she swiftly exited the Volvo.
Should you wish to share my work-in-progress, please do so by copying the link (URL) to this webpage.
Discover more from Maria S McDonald
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
