Here I was standing backstage waiting for my cue to walk onto the stage with my opening line. In the past I had been doing fine. But now I was just beginning to think for the firsttime about all the things I could do wrong:
A. I could stumble and fall off the stage.
B. I could mess up a line causing a chain reaction of related lines that don’t make sense.
C. I could forget to bring in a prop and screw up any lines relating to it.
D.I could fall asleep in scene 1 in my bed.
E. Pretty much anything that could possibly go on.
Anyway, just thinking about that made me shake and shiver in my hidden backstage spot.
Now I began to panic wishing my cue would never come or the audience would disappear and we would cancel the show because of it. But like I knew, my cue was like a bomb in the middle of the road waiting to go off and there was nothing I could do but drive towards it.
Within seconds the bomb went off and shoved me onto the stage.
I didn’t think my performance would turn out well. But it did!
As you didn’t know until now this was only a Dress Performance! We were going to have the real thing soon, and now I can’t wait. I am so excited for it to come and I will not be nervous for the actual thing!
Good slice! You really described how nervous you were. I like how you included what could happen on the stage.
Mrs. Smith: You used so many strategies to tell this tale – I could sense your anxiety and your desire to get it all right.
I especially liked this part:
“Now I began to panic wishing my cue would never come or the audience would disappear and we would cancel the show because of it. But like I knew, my cue was like a bomb in the middle of the road waiting to go off and there was nothing I could do but drive towards it.”
P.S. You were awesome in the play, Nick!!
“Dad?” I say. “Do you think you’ll be free on May 22nd?”
“I don’t know, why?” he asks, curious, “your birthday is on the 25th.” I smirk. “I’m wondering if you want to come on the 6th grade trip to Philadelphia with me. It’s my school field trip this year.” I quickly get up from the dinner table and grab the yellow permission slip from my stuffed blue backpack. I practically shove it in his face and start to yack about what Mrs. Smith told us in school.
To tell you the truth, I am very excited about this field trip. It sounded like so much fun when I heard about all the amazing things that we were going to do. Most of all, I was excited to tell this to my dad. I really wanted him to come to Philadelphia as a chaperone. He isn’t usually able to commit to anything in advance because he is always on call for work. He only takes a day off when it is for something extremely important.
“This sounds like fun Rachel!” he finally replies after what seems like an hour. My nerves relaxed a bit. ‘Is that a yes, or a no?’ I wonder.
“Yeah. I’m really excited!” I say back.
“I’ll think about it.” He answers, breaking the silence and marking the end of the conversation.
As the night goes on, the knots start forming again. It feels like a big soft pretzel is being twisted and made inside of me. My mind keeps going back to what my dad had said earlier. ‘I’ll think about it, I’ll think about it, I’ll think about it.’ I listen to his voice over and over again like a broken record that can’t be fixed. It seems like I have a one-track mind — what will he say? That night, right before I go to bed, I take out the permission slip one last time.
“Dad?” I say once again. “Have you decided yet, you know, about the trip?”
“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll take off that day so I can definitely come. He answers. At that point, I am thrilled. The knots untwisted and I felt like jumping for joy. This will be really special. This is an experience that I will never forget, because my dad will be there.
Nice Job! I really loved when you said,” It feels like a big soft pretzel is being twisted inside of me.”
You give so much of your inner thoughts. Nice slice.
Nice job, a lot of dialogue, which is good for a slice.
Wow, just, wow. I can almost picture this happening to me. You described it well, you ended it well, just an awesome slice Rachel.
Great slice Rachel! The way that you described how you felt on the inside and how worried you were was amazing!
You did a nice job adding your anticipation into this slice and a great job adding your thoughts and feelings. Great job!
Rachel! I loved this! It most be hard to almost never have your dad home so this must have meant A LOT to you. This will definately be a day to remember for you!
I really liked your slice, especially when you said “as if I was wring out a wet washcloth.” Good job!
that was a great slice. I love how you slowed down the moment and added feelings and similes.
My arms get more and more tired as I climb until I can barely move them. Finally I slam my ice pick into the sheet and pull myself up until suddenly; my face pokes up over the edge of the ice. I slowly look down. Forty feet down, all the other people who came to climb are milling around, some getting ready to climb, others looking up at the people who are already on the ice. Slowly I start to lower myself back down. My feet are constantly slipping as I step, clutching tightly to the rope attached to my harness, down the ice wall. Soon my heels start to feel the ground under them, instead of just empty air and my whole body relaxes.
As soon as I step back from the wall, I feel victorious. I just climbed a forty foot sheet of ice, I think to myself.
Mrs.Smith: Woah…I am impressed! You did a wonderful job describing what the ascent was like – very arduous. I can see why you felt victorious!
I like the way how you made the reader feel like they were there climbing the ice.