9 months ago

Book 1 Website Chapters 1-2

tailor? Does the tailor

tailor? Does the tailor care how much they’ll make or is the enjoyment in their work simply an honest admission, tied with a hope that others will receive it in a meaningful way? Navy needs to find his exuberant joy. No, he needs to start with just being happy. Jock. I drift to the internal gallery in my mind, a place of respite, of inspiration and insight, an ethereal room hung with colorful, still-moment shots of nature, its infinite details revealing mysterious relationships. The tailor may have known as a child, but what if there is no Creative Voice to reveal my Gift, what if project management is all there is and the exuberant joy I seek is just a distraction? I slide out my doodle sheet with the song titles from earlier this morning. Life is sound or not, push and pull, light and shade, chiaroscuro. I write Delusion next to Joy over the first Venn, Illusive next to Hope and Distraction next to Divine. Mr. Bonham, Einstein, Oprah, a teacher or a mother, they all possess a Creative Gift. We all are the Chosen One. A Creative Gift is the synthesis of many things within. Its elements aren’t skill or a culmination of casual interests. It’s more; it’s the disease and the cure. Hours later and the five-page proposal in hand, exuberant joy twinkles with thoughts of the project that awaits at home, the books pulled out this morning. I turn off my desk lamp, but Lori blocks my door, “That’s the BSL presentation?” She takes the presentation and hands me a red file. “Elaine met with Ted and Bracket. She wants another version of the presentation on her desk tonight.” She turns, her Chosen One not burdened. The Rules of Life by Melissa Abbott-Cooke. Contact: 615-669-5643 26

My Hulme bag thunks to the floor. Lamp on, I open Elaine’s notes and begin the mad dash to make a soufflé out of bricks. Minutes in, the phone rings. “Hey!” Beth chirps. “Why were you such a jerk at the café?” “I wasn’t me Beth. It was the guy in front of me. Did you see him?” “I did, but let's not go there. What’s your freaking issue?” “He’s an arrogant jock. Alison was close to tears.” “Alison can handle herself, doofus. So, Miss ‘I’m making changes,’ do you want to walk home together?” The pause is too long to bear. Mercifully, she ends it. “Right, I thought so.” My office like a morgue, I work. But thoughts of Alison and Navy flail at the ring of my phone. Security on the display, I cautiously pick up, “This is Kathryn.” “Get down here Kathy or Rick Astley and I will serenade you from here.” “You wouldn’t dare.” I play with my fate and his impishness. “Try me. I’ll drag you out in the middle of Ohio Street for everyone to see.” I step out to the lobby and Scott’s fiendish smile. He takes off his hat and shakes his regulatory locks to fall his way. Buoyant strides and his wink approach, part of the arsenal and charm that is a lethal weapon for many women, but oddly not for the group of ladies hovering at the sofa. He twirls me with his hello, glances to the ladies and smiles back to me. “It’s so good to see you. That’s it; I’m taking you out there now; Rick is waiting.” “NO!” louder than I intended, I glance to the women, then lower. “Don’t you dare, Scott.” The Rules of Life by Melissa Abbott-Cooke. Contact: 615-669-5643 27

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