All The World Is A Stage

(This week my Faithwriters.com writing challenge entry of under 750 words with topic being "outstanding")

"Come on in Nell, and thanks for picking those up for me." Gloria said as she stepped aside to let in her best friend. "How many did you get? I'm so nervous. I've been up since three. Do you want some coffee? I've already drank a whole pot, but I can make another one if you want. Oh forget the coffee. I'll make it after I read them. No, I can't. Please, could you read them to me? "

Nell gently took Gloria by the hand and led her to the couch and, as requested, began to read the first review. "This one is from Variety":  "I saw no prodigy in last nights Broadway play Prodigy of Baker Street.  Along with this play's lack of depth or continuity, lead actor Jason Arlen, and supporting actress Gloria Holden's performances were as unremarkable as the play itself." "Forget this one." Nell said as she non-chalantly placed the paper on the floor behind her. "Don't let that bother you Glo, I heard a lot of these critics don't even go to the plays they write about anyway. They just thrive on being nasty."

Nell pulled up from the stack the next paper. "Here, The New York Daily News has a much better reputation; let's see what they have to say." "Prodigy of Baker Street opened last night with expectations of another hit from writer, director Matthew Holloway. But unfortunately the plot line and drab script of this play left me only to realize that, unlike Holloway's last play, Hit and a Miss, this was one is definitely a miss." "Yada, yada, yada, okay, here…" "Gloria Holden who played supporting actress to  lead actor Jason Arlen, tried her best to deliver her lines, but between the two of them this three act play dragged on rendering it mildly entertaining at best." "Now see, he saw that you tried. It's not your fault the writing sucked."

"How many more are there?" Gloria questioned Nell as she closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and squinted with reserved anticipation.

"There are just two more. Hang in there Gloria. I was there and thought you did great. This one is from the Chicago Times": "Broadway saw the opening of a new play by Matthew Holloway last night called Prodigy of Baker Street. Quite frankly, this play should be running in some little theatre/bowling alley on Baker Street in Small Town USA, not on Broadway in New York City.  The weak and flimsy story line was matched only by mediocre acting."  Nell quickly tried to salvage any dignity left from that last statement by saying:  "I'm sure that he didn't mention your name because he thought that even the best of actors couldn't have saved this play." But Gloria still couldn't help but hang her head and sigh.

  

"Gloria, this is the last one. Do you want me to read it?"

"Go ahead. If it isn't any better than the others, I have an emergency bag of M&M's in the cupboard if we need them." Gloria said as she held back her tears.

Nell began to read from the last paper. "This review is on the front cover!" "The play Prodigy of Baker Street opened last night on Broadway. From the moment the curtains opened my breath was taken away by the outstanding performance of this plays supporting actress Gloria Holden.  I could not take my eyes off of her as she delivered every line with dramatic passion and sincerity." "Gloria, this guy really loves you! Wait, there's more." "This beautiful young woman possesses great creativity and truly has a God given talent. The writing and story of this play had much to be desired. But Gloria gave such life to her character; I left with a longing to see this play over and over again."

Gloria looked up and paused for a moment before speaking. "Wow! What paper is that from?"

Looking straight at Gloria Nell answered,  "I didn't pick it out; some guy at the stand just handed it to me as I was leaving."

"You're kidding?" Gloria took a deep breath in, and even though she had a grin on her face; tears were falling down her cheeks. "What's the name of the paper?" She asked." And what's the writer's name?"

"The paper is called Abba's Bragging Rights Review, and the writer just goes by the initials J.C."

writing challenge "outbreak"

I joined a web site for Christian writers called Faithwriters.com    Every week they throw out a theme and ask their members to take a shot at writing about it with a 150 to 750 word story or peom.  Here is my writing for this weeks challenge of the word "outbreak" :

Grace new she was loved. From the day Tykera brought her home from the hospital she was the essence of life in their third floor one bedroom apartment. The sound of cars, busses, and the roar of the transit train were a constant during the daylight hours, and at night add to that the occasional cursing from her neighbour behind paper thin walls. But this existence was a haven compared to life on the streets that included brutal beatings by the hand of a pimp if the money brought in was less than expected. What was even more unexpected was the day Tykera was told that she was pregnant.

The doctor's were able to stop the internal bleeding from the brutal blows that left her with bruised kidneys and a ruptured spleen. Against all odds the faint beat of a heart echoed from Tykera's womb that gave her hope for escape from a life of illicit sex, drugs, and pain. It didn't matter that this conceptions was by a nameless man of moral disgrace. This was Tykera's fork in life's road. It was now or never. The words of the nurse in the hospital that night kept coming back to her. She was special and her life was valuable. So valuable and so loved that God himself sacrificed His son to make sure that she had hope for the future, loved unconditionally, and she need never face life alone again.

An outbreak of desperate and extreme frenzy overtook Tykera as she trembled past each convulsion of withdrawals. "Just let me die!" was her agonizing cry as the hours of sweat and pain led into days of restraint from her hospital bed. "Oh God, I can't do this." She had no conscious awareness that prayers were coming from the now off duty nurse in the chair right beside her; prayers that were pleading for relief and life.

The unmistakable aroma of bacon came wafting into the room. Tykera breathed in with a sense of smell that for so long had eluded her. She focussed her eyes on the surroundings in her room. Turning to the chair next to her bed she saw a box of Kleenex and an open Bible. "Well good morning Sunshine" the nurse said as she wheeled in the cart containing a plate of breakfast under a plastic dome. "If you eat at least some of this we can unhook your I.V. today." By hospital standards this was a basic entrée for breakfast, but for Tykera, this was a breakfast of champions.

"Well praise the Lord, look who lives" were the words that came from the smiling face of a stout but attractive middle aged woman as she entered Tykera's room. "Do I know you?" said Tykera. "Yes and no" said the woman. She sat herself in the chair next to the bed with that Bible now in her lap. "My name is Althea." Then she gently gripped Tykera's hand and said "Now, do you know who you are?" Silence filled the room as Tykera held back the tears of facing her own reality.

She bit her bottom lip for a brief second and faintly replied: "I think I am going to be a mom. But I don't know how to do that. I don't have a job or no place to live." The facts were clear and on her chart that she had been beaten, endured detoxification, and was pregnant. But at this moment, knowing "who she was" was not as clear. With a sincere but deliberate voice, Althea responded: "You my dear are here for a reason. God believes in you more than you believe in yourself right now. I can set you up on a path for support and income. But you have a choice to make. Go forward on you own accord, and "how's that been workin for you so far?". Or, take a leap of faith of letting God's love let you live life with purpose and power."

Hospital room 531 that day became the birthplace of Tykera; a child of God. After that prayer's "amen" Althea and Tykera embraced each other with tears of joy. At the same time there was an outbreak of song of rejoicing from the angels in heaven. Seven months later room 207 became the birthplace of Grace. Born that day was a child conceived from an act of violation, but named after the redeeming provision of freedom in Christ. Again, the angels sang.