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Friday, April 1, 2011


Howdy y'all!  It is time to post our first CWCG stories!  Let us know here that your's is up at your place so we can go visit and read/see what you came up with.

This month's words were:

Germicide – any antiseptic used to kill germs
Gander – to look
Pinkie – the smallest finger
mischance – bad luck
extoll – to praise highly

And the theme was:  School


Farrenhill Private School has always been the school for the elite. To my mischance, my parents are rolling in money made from investing in Macintosh back in the 80s.  Thus I’m part of the elite, making it a requirement that I attend FPS.

To my parents’ dismay, I’m not much for the hoity-toity type events.  The clothes alone are such a stifling stigma.  I prefer blue jean cutoffs, Team Edward T-shirts and sketchers.  My parents being the understanding type don’t press me too hard.  Attending FPS and participating in the Junior Booster Club are their only requirements.  In return I am allowed to spend my free time however I like which is usually swimming in the lake or reading on my kindle.

Tonight is one of those suffering Junior Booster Club events.  A fund-raiser dinner and silent auction to be followed by a dance.  Sofie Slight, the Junior Booster Club President, insisted that the violin section from her father’s symphony provide the music and entertainment.  I would have suggested Justin Bieber, the Jonas Brothers or Taylor Swift, had I been consulted which obviously I was not. I mean, who dances to the violin

Introductions are made by the club secretary acknowledging the Dean, the Head-Mistress, a few other faculty and then Sofie, who gracefully rises from her seat to take her place at the podium.  She’ll surely have some speech to melt the money right out of the attendees fat wallets.

I fight the urge, my mind telling my eyes to stay focused forward but they betray me by taking a gander.  Sofie’s mom is holding her champagne glass, pinkie held high in extol, as her daughter approaches the stage.  The ‘Slights’ have always been held in high regard.  They fail at nothing. Their family’s flamboyant perfectionism permeates among the rest of us like germicide.  Even their family name inferrs that the rest of us will always be slighted in their presence.

Sofie approaches the stage wearing a tight glittering gown perfectly fitting her Barbie doll form, made by the family’s personal seamstress I’m sure.  She was probably stitched into it.  Her sauntering walk and slender, swaying hips exude confidence as her 2 inch heels click with the rhythm of her steps.  She adjusts the microphone to compensate for her supermodel height of 5’8.  Her outer beauty is sickening.

I twitch as the sequined halter of my own dress sandpapers a rash on my neck.  Sofie introduces herself to immediate applause from the audience.  Then, she begins her eloquent monologue, the speakers carrying her melodic voice throughout the auditorium.  I sigh to myself knowing this is going to be a long night.

Suddenly something Sofie says wakes me from my open-eyed nap.  “This year we are replacing the silent auction with,” she pauses for impact, “a live auction featuring each of our club members for one weekend!  The members have all agreed to participate and will clean your windows, pick up your dry cleaning, or even clean your pool.  Whatever chores you need done, the member you win will be yours for the entire three day weekend!  Isn’t it fabulous!”  She almost squeals with delight as voices and laughter echo through the audience.  It seems they too are all thrilled with this idea.  Of course, anything Sofie does or says is always thrillingly appreciated.

I never agreed to do this, um, at least not that I’m aware of.  I’ve never really paid attention to the paperwork handed out or the items voted on at the FPS Junior Booster Club meetings.  I just fill my chair one hour a month to keep mom and dad happy.

“So, our first member up for auction is Emmeline Porter.  Come on up here Em’, it’s for a good cause.”  She smiles that beautiful, glamorous, witch of a grin.  And, by witch I mean with a capital ‘B’.   I greet her smile with my own, my molars grinding so hard I think my jaw will lock.

“Go on,” ushers my mom, her eyes glimmering with eagerness.  She loves this stuff.

“You are the very first club member up for auction so everyone’s pockets are full. I just know you’re going to pull in a big donation. This is so exciting!” She exclaims, trying to contain her enthusiasm.

Yeah.  Excitingly humiliating.  Sofie Slight, I’ll get you for this, I vowed as I approached the stage.

Share your thoughts about my story.  If you notice any irritating habit or have a suggestion for me to work on please share that too (easily on my ego, LOL). :-D

I'll be back probably tonight or tomorrow with the post for the next assignment, CWCG #2.  I'm going with the dictionary again, a theme, and I might search for a random picture to add just so spice it up a bit.

YAY!  What fun on a Friday!



Melissa said...

Mine is up!

Farmer*swife a/k/a Glass_Half_Full said...

I didn't title mine, because it is left open-ending I'm stumped for a title... First Play, no harm no foul?

Farmer*swife a/k/a Glass_Half_Full said...

Oooh, wait -- maybe 'Boarding School Diaries." :-D

Melissa said...

I can't wait to hear what the next assignment is!

Oh, how I wish you would have written more to this story. I really want to find out what happens with Em. You're such a tease. ;-)

I'm only mentioning this because you first brought it up to me - I noticed the tense changes, even from one sentence to another. If you're writing in present tense, I think it's easy to slip into past tense. Just something to keep your eye on when you're proofing . . .

Alice said...

I love your story. I agree with Lis, write some more to the story! It's not nice to leave people hanging.:-)