What to choose? So many things, but this thing had to ring like the fire alarm. Jar them out of their seats in awe. She just knew she had to come up with something that would make her stand proud.
Steppin up the crumbling stairs of their tenement, Fani buzzed herself into the vestibule and looked down. Oh yes, she tickled herself thinking- Mr Pappadopoulas, (their Super), and “his” floor. For months starting in summer, ‘Mr P’ was on his knees in that entryway matching up individual tiles to create the mosiac floor the original building had when it was constructed in the 20's. It was a very intricate and colorful installation originally, but years of footfall, mud, rain and snow , not to overlook occasional spillage, garbage, and even dog pee had worn away, and dislodged the small ceramic tiles until a rubber weather mat over it had to be lain so people wouldn’t trip. That mat was so nasty grimy, she thought. Fani would from time to time flip the mat up to see Mr P’s progress in setting each tile into the original pattern. Soon, she hoped, it would be unveiled . This would make for a fitting story to use “her” word on. But, no, That telling belonged to Mr Pappadopoulos as it was his story. She couldn’t appropriate her word on somebody else’s idea. She wanted the story to be her own,
Later as Mom served the family greasy fried chicken and collard greens (which Fani didn’t particulary care for, but her Mom, being of Southern heritage, was want to savor, so it was on the table often and endured) Fani picked at her food. She was deeply into her thoughts about tomorrow. ‘What, pray tell’ was my story to be?’ She caught her Mother remarking on Fani’s cousin ‘Swannie” ( Her real name was Samantha but for some reason everybody had nicknamed her Swannie and it stuck) , birthing her new baby April Dawn. Swannie had been in labor for over 26 hours and they finally had to induce, and out popped a large 9 ounce baby girl . Everybody said she was so big cause her mama was ‘diaperbetic,’ whatever that was, but the fact remained that April Dawn came out looking like a two year old. Again, this incidence was good basis for story that Fani could use , but fireworks didn’t go off in Fani’s mind. It just wasn’t grand enough to waste her precious word on.
After dish wash (Fani dried) she continued pondering just what her narrative would be tomorrow. Indeed, she went to bed berift at not having any ideas to her satisfaction.
Morning dawned no better. Actually worse, because now the pressure was on, and Stephanie was starting to panic. She had too much at stake in this assignment. She could not let Miss Kaplan down. She could not endure a middling “Oh that was nice, Fani” as her acknowledgment. And most, important, she simply would not allow herself to fall short in her own eyes. Simply unacceptable. Period.
Fani set off for school dejected as no story had formulated. Dejected as she stepped down the front steps, her gaze landed in front and below her . She focused. “OH GEEZ,” positively exploded from her.
“This is IT” I’ve got it. Perfect.”
She finally, FINALLY, had her story!
Now, having so much trouble holding herself in she was so ready to spew, Fani finally found it was her time in front of the class. She held up her bright and elaborate glittered, stickered, and glitzed word picture and began,
“This morning I walked out of my house and looked down, and there ,at the bottom of the stairs just barely sticking forth from the grimy snow and crumbling stone, sprouting up from between cracks in the concrete was a single brave little flower that had two tiny green leaves and a purple bloom. I had to stop and admire this little thing for the way it had beat all odds, forcing itself upward in this unlikely location.”
( Fani beamed at all the smiles she saw looking back at her) She continued,
“I just have to tell you all, it was really ...”
