Lucid Waking

Archive for March 9th, 2010

Bree MacGuinness

        Bree MacGuinness walked down her gravel driveway in high heels with a pile of books on her head just in time to catch her father’s truck park in front of their house. The books went crashing to the ground as she ran to greet him. He looked tired but he picked her up and spun her around in the air before setting her down to get a good look at her. His face got cloudy, but he smiled.
        “How’s my baby girl?” he asked.
        “Good, Papa,” she said.
        “Good,” he said and put his arm around her shoulder to lead her back to the house. When they came to her books she scooped them up hurriedly and held them against her chest.
        “How was work?”
        “Exhausting as usual,” he said sighing. “But I’m home now.”
        He opened the door for her and she walked into the living room where the smells of apple pie and fried chicken wafted through the house. Her father went straight to the kitchen where her mother was reading a book and waiting for dinner to finish cooking, but Bree went to her room and quickly kicked off her shoes. She leaned back in her bed and looked at all of the posters decorating her walls: Audrey Hepburn, Billie Holiday, Paloma Faith, Bernadette Peters, Michelle Pfeiffer, Rosy the Riveter. And she had a poster of Elvis after her mother let slip her concern for all the posters of women Bree had in her room and her grandmother dug it up from basement for Bree’s birthday. It was signed to her mother from the person who gave it to her, but Bree liked it all the same.
        She felt under her pillow for the letter from the Boston Theater Academy just to make sure it was still there. But before she could pull it out and read it again, she heard her mother call her from the kitchen and she bounded from her room to where dinner was waiting for her hungry stomach.

Author’s comments on post 362: Another character who lives in that yet undecided small town with Johnny. At another date you’ll find out more about her and her family, but for now, I hope you enjoy just the small introduction.