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Author: Subject: [Writing prompt] word for 2007.07.05
sylvrilyn
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[*] posted on 7-5-2007 at 09:39 AM
[Writing prompt] word for 2007.07.05


Today's word is price.



"A painting is never finished. It simply stops in interesting places." -- Paul Gardner

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Irish_Blush
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[*] posted on 7-6-2007 at 10:27 AM


The Price of Love

Some days just weren’t worth waking up for, Sarah McMillan thought with a grimace as she shifted the weight of her sleeping son in her arms.
The first blush of morning had barely touched the sky, and already Sarah could practically smell trouble in the air.
It had all started the night before, when a particularly busy shift at the Moose Milk Tavern had made her late to pick up Nate from Mrs. Bellamy’s house.
The stout woman had informed Sarah, in no uncertain terms, that she was far too old to be staying up until God knew when she felt like coming in, and that Sarah would need to be finding a new sitter for little Nate.

Sarah had arrived home exhausted, both mentally and physically, and fallen into an all-too short sleep, rudely interrupted by her alarm clock set for 6am. Dressing her son in the near dark of the late winter morning, Sarah had seriously considered giving it all up and heading back to bed.
She’d probably earned a sick day or two, but even as she had considered it, Sarah knew she’d never follow through. There was too much to do as a single mother and never enough hours with which to do it.
She’d never forgive herself if she wasted the day in bed, no matter how tempting the thought may be.

And so Sarah had headed out into the morning, Nate tucked sleepily into his car seat, determined to find a new sitter within the day.
She had heard nothing but good things about the daycare that Mrs. Atkins ran out of her modest home on the other end of town, although in the past the price alone had swayed her into finding someone more affordable.
However, affordable wasn’t an option any more, as Sarah had exhausted every other sitter in town with her late hours.
Besides, she reasoned as she backed her rattling Thunderbird out of her driveway and headed toward town, she was making enough at the Tavern to make one extravagant purchase.
Although she had previously had dreams of a few new t-shirts and a tune-up for her car, Sarah knew now that they would have to wait.
Being a mom meant sacrificing your dreams for your child’s, her mother had told her once when she was younger.
Some days it felt like all she did was sacrifice.




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