The Submission
She
refused to open her eyes, hitting the snooze for the third time. Her plan to
not move was trumped by her bladder. With a groan, she swung her feet to touch
the cool oak boards, still slick from her 7th waxing this week.
Before a panic attack could begin, her cellphone erupted with the bridge to
‘Imagine’. She glimpsed the caller id through bleary eyes and reached for the
disconnect. Her numb middle finger hit the ‘speakerphone’ button instead.
Without waiting a beat the voice blared out at her – “Have you seen yet?? Have
you heard?? I can’t login for another hour!! Finalists ONLY until 8am. WHAT’s
HAPPENING???”
