From Sarah Selecky: Write a scene where the crumb on the table has particular significance.
I looked over the black table. Nothing. I smiled. She would never know.
"William, what are you doing?" My mother walked in. I immediately turned and stood in front of the table. "Nothing, mom."
"Then why do you have that guilty look on your face?"
"I don't have a look on my face."
My mother's eyebrows rose at the same time she smiled. "Hm. You have no look on your face at all?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
"Interesting. That would mean you have no eyes, and no mouth either. Guess I don't need to share this rice krispie treat with you." She grabbed the dessert off the counter behind her and opened her mouth wide.
"I want some!" I cried out.
"Oh. I though you'd already had some."
"Um-hm. Then what is this?" She tapped her finger on the table next to a spec of white.
"I dunno." I shrugged to make it more believable.
She bent down until her eyes were level with mine. I hated when she did that, but I kind of liked it, too. She was friendlier like that, but it meant I was going to not feel right. I shifted my weight to my other foot.
"You know it is always better to be honest with me." She just looked at me. She didn't say anything more, didn't touch me, didn't push me to confess. She just waited.
I looked away. "I ate a little bit."
Her eyebrows rose and her lips puffed out.
"I ate a whole one, I mean."
She nodded. "You don't ever need to lie to me. Even if it means you're going to get into trouble. Because you may get into trouble, but you'll get into a whole lot more trouble by lying. Do you understand?"
I nodded, even though I had only a vague idea of what she was talking about. "Can I have some of that now?"
She frowned, and I knew I had said that wrong thing.
"Do you think you deserve some of this?"
I shook my head. "No." It was the right thing to say. And I had already had one. But I really wanted more.
Mother sighed. "Do you know that rice krispie treats are my favorites?"
I nodded. She had told me that yesterday.
I watched anxiously as she broke off a piece. I rose onto my toes and settled back on my feet. She took a long time breaking that treat apart.
"Here you go. But first, I want a hug."
Anything. I hugged her. She held me even when I tried to pull apart. "Don't lie to me, okay?"
"All right," I replied, wiggling out of her arms.
She smiled. "I sure love you."
"I know. Can I have that treat now?"
Just a page from real life. I love how I can tell when my kids have done something wrong. I hope it sticks when they're a little older. So, tell me, is the voice the voice of a child? If not, what words or phrases should be changed? Thanks for your feedback! And check out Sabrina's post. Her write is always fantastic.