Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful. Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com I hope to see you there!
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WDC Survivor Challenge -- 2011
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#721349 added April 5, 2011 at 6:27am
Restrictions: None
Shameful Actions Come Around, Go Around
"Oh my God."

"What is it, Char?"

"Look at this. Will you look at this?"

"Wha--- Oh my God…"

"Exactly. Could they have printed the headline in a bigger font? ‘Local Former Beauty Queen Rams Car Full of Nuns, Gets DUI.’ Those bastards down at the paper! Don’t they know how embarrassed our family already is about this?"

"It’s that Norbert T. Wardoff, that’s who did this. Remember him?"

"Natalie’s high school stalker, the one Mom and Dad had to have shipped off to juvie when he wouldn’t stop following Nat everywhere? Remember? He used to sleep in the dirt under her bedroom window! That freak works at the paper now? Oh man, Maggie, he must have broken out in the happy dance when the police report came over the paper’s wire."

"Yeah, revenge couldn’t be sweeter. Listen, we have to be sure Grammy doesn’t see this article. It’d kill her."

"Agreed. What’s the article say, anyways?"

"Let’s see, ‘Former Miss New Jersey Teen Natalie Belmont--' Hey, wanna sit? I’ll make room. Good, Maggie? Okay, where was I? ‘…was in town for Springfield High's Class of 1985 Reunion last weekend -- yada, yada, yada – ‘left a party intoxicated…failed to yield the right of way at the intersection of North Gordon and Park and ploughed into a car occupied by four nuns from St. James, injuring three …”

"OH MY GOD!"

"Grammy! Um, hi! We, er, didn’t hear you come in."

"Open that paper back up, Char. Right this instant!"

"What paper?"

"The one crammed under your ass, Char."

"Uh-oh...she's cursing, Char..."

"What, Grammy, this paper? There’s nothing interesting in here. How about a nice cup of tea? Maggie, you want some tea, sis?"

"Sure! I’ll go make---"

"No! I don’t want any damn tea. I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know now! Natalie is the Former Beauty Queen I saw in that headline."

"Well, she…okay, yes. Yes Grammy, she got into a little trouble last weekend. We didn’t want to upset you. But here, here’s the paper."

"For heaven’s sake, Char. I already read the damn article over your shoulder. Maggie?"

"Yes, Grammy? Ready for that cup of tea?"

"No! However, do you have one of those cellular telephones?"

"Uh, yes, right here."

"Good. Be a dear and ring St. James for me. Ask Father Richardo if he’s free this afternoon. I'm going to need to go to confession. Char?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Bring that phone over here, the cord should reach. I need you to look up the paper's number and dial it. I’ve held my tongue for years, but today I’m going to tell that Norbert T. Wardoff just what I think of him!"





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