So Long, Farewell

The Hug by Shashank Shekhar

The Hug by Shashank Shekhar

 

“Here we are,” Cynthia tapped the steering wheel with one finger, her anxiety building. Her daughter eager to sprint from the car, bag and dreams in hand. Yet Cynthia’s heart quivered at the sight of so much excited abandon. Their sideways hug lingered. DNA was breaking off once more. Goodbye.

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Hey all! Wrote this shorty in response to the DP Weekly Writing Challenge. I simply loved it! It was hard picking the right words and hard to end it right at 50 but WOOO what a challenge. Can’t wait to experiment with super short bits like this some more =)

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Wasn’t me…Then who?

“Janise Marie Zayas, with a Bachelor’s degree in English Literature,” the announcer waved me forward, handing me a tiny slip of paper that basically read I had finished my degree. It was an acknowledgement of a real degree on the way in certified mail, ready to frame and admire on a wall. I walked forward, a huge smile on my face and the sound of my family cheering in the background.

It was the moment I had waited for since I was 8 and I had promised myself I’d go to college and I would graduate. Back then it had been a dream partially sculpted by my parents and partly from books and TV showing off how fun college was supposed to be. Don’t get me wrong, it was a blast. It flew by in the blink of an eye and then it was over.

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Can you spell that for me?

Name Nobre Nome Ainm Název

Name Nobre Nome Ainm Název

Way back, in the 7th grade, when I was 12, I started at a new middle school in a new neighborhood with zero friends. I had already completed 6th grade in a middle school setting so I wasn’t frightened by the change like many of the kids at this new school were. Their advantage however, lay in the fact that many of them had gone to Elementary school together and knew one another.

In my first class of the day the teacher was busy calling out names and pointing to seats so we’d know where we would be forced to plant ourselves day after day when we filed in for that particular class. Being that my last name starts with a Z I was used to being placed in the back so I made my way in that general direction and waited to be called last.

The other part of the routine that I was more than familiar with was the teacher inevitably butchering my name. Honestly it’s not that hard. See my name is spelled Janise and it’s pronounced jah-niece but many people tend to say jan-niss or even duh-niece. Yeah, that’s right, they would actually make a D sound when it’s clearly a J in the beginning of my name. Once I even had a substitute say (with much conviction) jan-is-ee.

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