Week 16 contest

[Snowbird]

Merry Prankster will post the winner of the paragraph contest here. 
Then the winner can post the next sentence.
This contest will run for two weeks as I will be out of town and most of the other administrators are also going away on trips.

[Merry Prankster]

Thanks Snowbird.  The Prankster is here to announce the winner of this week's Golden Bee ("Buzzy") for Best Short Subject---Prose.

The nominees are:

Snowbird, for her work entitled "Resurrection?"

Outlast, for her work entitled "Sleuth"

trouble405, for her work entitled "A Prayer Answered"

Each nominee submitted work of a quality worthy of the award.   The envelope, please.........and the winner of the Buzzy is [drum roll]..................

trouble405!

Congratulations trouble405!  Please provide the starter sentence for this week's two-week contest.

[trouble405]

  


awwww shucks.  I 'preciate the win! new sentence . . .



As the car pulled up to the curb . . .

[Outlast]

As car pulled up to the curb, Helen watched horrified as her husband's body was dumped at her feet. She cried hot angry tears as she observed the grievous injuries on his body, as the car pulled away, its tires screaming. Why? WHY?! she cried, cradling he husband's head in her lap. He had always been a good man. A good cop. The shooting, the looting... the actions and reactions had nothing to do with him. Why must the innocent suffer for the crimes or for the perceived crimes of others? Belatedly she realized she should've noticed the license plate on the car, but what good would that do? Her husband would still be dead. And for nothing at all.
 

[Outlast]

As car pulled up to the curb it fired its parking thrusters, subtly maneuvering them into a perfect parallel park. The driver turned the ignition down to 'hover', confident that he wouldn't be in the shop long enough to need to extend the landing gear. As he entered the shop he saw a woman roll by on a pre-hover engine bike, which he vaguely recalled had been called a 'motor-cycle'. "How quaint", he murmured as he watched her roll by on the deserted pavement, well below the congested sky-traffic above. "Poor dear probably can't afford a real car", he said, as he turned to enter the shop, the strange woman quickly forgotten.

[Merry Prankster]

As the car pulled to the curb on East Drive in Central Park, I sensed something was about to change in my otherwise perfect life.  I was on my usual early morning jog and the endless blue sky on this crisp October day had made me think of the limitless possibilities ahead of me.  I had graduated from law school with honors the previous spring and in September I started a job with a white-shoe Wall Street Firm at a salary of 150 thou a year.    I was a desirable, single young buck in a city full of comely does and I had already sampled some of the herd.  Life could not be any better and I was just getting started.   Then the driver got out of the car, stood next to the front bumper and motioned for me to join him.   As I approached the car I noted the man was of average height, slender and dressed impeccably in a double-breasted suit.  He wore a Fedora which he pulled off with panache and he was wearing sunglasses.  I didn’t know him but there was something vaguely familiar about his face.  When I got to the car I asked “what can I do for you, sir?”  He replied in a strange voice, higher-pitched with a husky, lower-pitched undercurrent, “Don’t you recognize me?”  I told him I was sorry but I didn’t recognize him.  Then he said “perhaps this will help” and removed his sunglasses.  I froze in disbelief.  How could I ever forget those remarkable, hypnotic emerald eyes?  They belonged to Carol, my girlfriend in college with whom I broke up at graduation and had not heard from since.  Despite my utter shock I managed to stammer out “C-c-carol?”  He smiled and replied, “now it’s Carl.  People change, don’t they? I have someone with me who I want you to meet.”  He went to the rear door of the car, opened it, reached in, fumbled around for a few seconds and returned holding a toddler in diapers.  Then he said, “Alan, I want you to meet your daughter……..”

[Snowbird]

    As the car pulled up to the curb he looked at the elderly  woman standing on the sidewalk, still beautiful after all these years.  When the driver opened the door, handed him his cane, and helped him step out of the pink limousine  her eyes fell on the old man's face so taunt from all the face lifts that he looked like an old man wearing a mask.  The skin was white from all the years of being hidden away from the sunlight but the full head of dyed hair was still combed into a perfect ducktail in the back.  "Hello Priscilla, don't you recognize me?," he said in a shaky voice.

[Prairie Dawn]

As the car pulled to the curb, she rubbed her shaking hands over the widow, clearing the fog.  She stared at the house, heart pounding in her chest.  It was a lovely brownstone with happy pansies bouncing in the windowboxes in the afternoon breeze.  She smiled, briefly.  She was so proud.  The taximeter clicked on, the driver sighing with impatience.  She clutched the locket around her throat.  Closing her eyes she sent a prayer towards the heavens.  A tear trickled slowly down her weathered face.  Could she do this? She had to do this.  She had been searching for so long.   With a deep breath she leaned over the seat and paid the driver.  Grasping her satchel with hands that defied her age she stepped out of the car.  Slowly, she walked, each step a year, a regret.  Her hand paused briefly before the ornate brass knocker placed perfectly on the glossy red door.  She knocked.  She took in one long shuddering breath.  This was it.  The cumulation of years of searching and regrets.  Oh, how different things were now, she thought.  The door opened, revealing a handsome man, in his early thirties with the same piercing blue eyes and crooked smile......"can I help you?" he said.

[bacali]

As the car pulled up to the curb, she took a deep breath and grasped the door handle.
Getting out into the sunlight , she looked up to see the huge cross on the top of the chapel. This chapel would be her "home" for the rest of her life. Or, at least until she made her vows and was given an assignment.
This morning was the beginning of her new life, so, she had said her tearful good-byes to all her family members the night before. Nothing must spoil today. She must not enter through those doors with big red eyes.
She pick up her small suitcase and walked up to the front door.
Today , Pamela was joining the order of the Dominican Sisters !