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Pride

June 29, 2017

Pride
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Grace watched Adam drink the poison. It was nearly finished now.

She made him do it.

Pushed him.

Should she feel this proud?

Far away: “Why does the drum come hither?”

Close: “Get off Fortinbras’ cape, Mrs. Banks.”

A behind-the-scenes view of Adam sinking to his knees, a command from his theater teacher, wrenched her attention.

Grace moved her foot, and the teacher shoved the other prince into the limelight. He stuttered like a skipping disc, and rambled Hamlet’s eulogy.

The scrim closed, then opened again on the line of bowing ten-year-olds.

Grace clapped the loudest, already scheming. Next year, MacBeth.

— Rachel Mans McKenny

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Comments

  1. Lesley Mace says

    June 29, 2017 at 4:32 am

    Love this story! Not a wasted word. Brilliant.

  2. Bobby Warner says

    June 29, 2017 at 8:41 am

    Unexpected ending–just the way I like ’em! Good story, Rachel!

  3. James Byrd says

    June 29, 2017 at 1:01 pm

    What I miss most after retirement from teaching. Your students will keep you young… if you let them.

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