Day 7 - Ten Words

Write a word containing each of these 10 words: Why, Misery, Consternation, Pallor, Orchestra, Forgive, Paper, Entry, First and Grandmother.

Breakdown Attempt One:

The PAPER gives ENTRY to the ORCHESTRA, only problem GRANDMOTHER, her color washed away, PALLOR, CONSTERNATION.

Breakdown Attempt Two:

She FIRST saw it in the PAPER, an ORCHESTRA was coming to town. She dwelt on it for days, the CONSTERNATION of the situation paralysing.  Her GRANDMOTHER had spoken of such things before, of orchestras.  

Riddled with guilt, she didn’t know what to do, nor did she know WHY.  It wasn’t as if she could take her Grandmother with her.  It was the idea that her grandmother came alive when she spoke of the orchestra.

The conversations were a momentary respite from her MISERY as the PALLOR fell away, her cheeks flush with the excitement of the memories, of the visceral sensation of being in the presence of such an event.

She had to go, her grandmother would never FORGIVE her if she did not.

Bewildered, she came out of her reverie only to find herself standing at the ENTRY to the theatre.

The Actual Story:

Emma FIRST saw the advertisement for the Sydney Symphony ORCHESTRA online, it had entered her feed.  Not once, but several times, gone were the ads for dresses, holidays, even dating sites, the things she always looked for. 

She couldn’t quite put her finger on WHY, she hadn’t been searching for this, what was going on, and then someone had thrust a PAPER into her hand as she walked down the street. Looking at it it, a glance as she approached a bin to throw it in. It was the ORCHESTRA again.

A sense of CONSTERNATION washed over her, what the hell, she’d not googled, searched for this, what was going on?  Then it washed over her.

Filling her, memories and emotions racing to the surface.  It was her GRANDMOTHER.  She remembered their last conversation, Her mother had made her go, to farewell her.

Entering the room, quietly at first, her Gran had not noticed her, she lay there, all tiny and frail, sunken in MISERY gaunt, looking out the window as if she was simply wasting away.  Thank god she had a nice vista to look at.

Then she looked towards the door, towards Emma. The PALLOR of death fell away the instant she registered it was her granddaughter who stood before her.

‘Emma my dear!’ she exclaimed, and then she went straight into it. ‘The Orchestra my dear, have you ever seen the orchestra, you must see the orchestra’.  That last conversation was a blessing, the Orchestra coming to town was a blessing, Gran had been able to forget her woes, forget she was dying.

That was a year ago today, she’d promised her grandmother, it was the last thing she did before farewelling her for the last time.

Gran, No Emma herself would never FORGIVE herself if she did not go.

Emma wiped away the tears that held well up in her eyes, of them falling onto the paper, as if punctuating the memory, It was if Gran herself was urging her to go.

Again, she wiped her tears away and composed herself, she needed to get to work, Looking up, to orientate herself, to get her bearings, and there it was.  The ENTRY to the Conservatorium of Music.