A Short Story…
Monika had a full head of hair. She brushed it every morning and wore it like a crown. Everyone knew her and her special love of the community and everyone in it.
If you crossed her path, she would let you know that you needed to step back and think about your directions, decisions, and destiny. Any time she addressed people, she did it as a thought producing and intelligent challenge, incorporating the common-sense elements of regard, decision, and follow through.
She liked to know who was in charge of whatever was being done that might improve the world. If she squinted her eyes, you could bet there was something going on inside of Monika’s brain. You didn’t really need to search for what was going on: you heard it, you felt it, you saw it, and you best take part in it if you wanted to show exactly where you stood.
To follow her direction was to take part, to provide backup, encouragement and sometimes money. You didn’t have to be like Monika; you just needed to appreciate her love of the community and to honor her thinking by understanding. Even a small comment of encouragement would act as approval and acceptance. Monica needs you. She knows how to get things done; but she needs your help to get it done. Our effort can change our community and Monica can drive us home.
Monica? or Monika? Back and forth, “c” or “k.” Which author is in charge here, or does your esteemed illustrator get to determine the protagonist’s name again?
Considering the brevity of your stories, I continue to wonder why you can’t take a few moments to proofread them before submitting them for publication. Little details like names do matter.
Today’s “story” seems to be a series of meaningless gobbledygook statements. Why do you feel compelled to publish something — no matter how bad — in nearly every edition of the Suburban Times?