My thanks to our leader Rochelle for being here every week, whether the road is rocky or smooth we follow wherever she leads.
Thanks also to Amy Reese for the photo this week.
Word Count: 100
The First Step
I smile, accepting their mild applause. I’ve been out of my comfort zone in front of this class of restless fifth form girls, delivering a talk entitled – ‘Succeeding as a Woman in Business.’ Questions follow. Though I am enthusiastic, questioning their reasoning, hoping to provoke engagement, the poverty of aspiration astounds me.
Struggling to understand their attitude, I walk towards my car. Tamara, the quiet girl who said she wants to be a hairdresser, stops me.
‘My family’s been out of work for years. How can I be any different?’
I tell her she has just taken the first step.
I attended a local school, at the invitation of the Head of Business Studies, to speak to fifth firm girls about my story, how I got to where I am. The girls’ lack of aspiration that day still concerns me.
Quote for the day…
‘Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed with the things that you didn’t do than with the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.’
I sneaked off last week to Tenerife which was very relaxing, doing nothing was great for recharging my batteries. I missed you all, and only managed to see a few stories, intermittent Wi-Fi is my excuse. Thanks as always to Rochelle, a great wordsmith and leader and also to Marie Gail Stratford for her photo this week.
Copyright Marie Gail Stratford
Word Count: 100
Thoughts of Home
Bright lights lured her to the city.
Dreams of being feted as the next Supermodel filled every waking moment.
With other hopefuls, she pouted, strutted and posed on demand.
Her leather portfolio bought with birthday money, stuffed with photos so lovingly captured by Charlie, began to look scruffy as it was pawed over and scrutinised by agent after agent.
Two weeks without work, two weeks with little money left.
A photographer called her; she had something quite special.
Posing naked in a cellar, positioned like a piece of meat, she stared out through his bright lights and thought of home.
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