Diary of a Hopeful Starving Student

This is a place for hope.

V Peracchio

V Peracchio
Location
Little Rock, Arkansas, U.S.A.
Birthday
August 03
Title
Writer
Company
I am delightful company!
Bio
Once upon a time this writer was a reporter/photographer and columnist for a large weekly newspaper in New York City, worked at the Center for Publishing at N.Y.U., worked at Kirkus for one whirlwind semester and eventually was an editor at Scholastic. After two very eventful years on cable television in New York City, this writer was voted off the island. Today this writer is a student and soon-to-be published author (all fingers and toes are crossed) living in reduced circumstances. She is ever hopeful and even though her stomach may rumble from time to time, she is usually somewhat reasonably well fed. Most importantly this writer is a recovering or former New Yorker, (recovering seems more apt), who is quite happily transplanted elsewhere. She blooms where she is planted. ************************ You can contact me at diaryofahopefulstarvingstudent@ gmail.com

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Salon.com
MAY 3, 2012 12:25PM

Call

Rate: 1 Flag

Joy wanders away to the living room with the cordless phone to answer a call from Will.

From the kitchen Hope can still hear Joy yelling at her second husband, and Isaiah begins to cry.  Hope holds him closer and gives him a kiss atop his head.

"Lets go upstairs, Isaiah, so your parents can have some privacy," Hope murmurs as she looks right at him.

Isaiah returns Hope's gaze and relaxes in her arms.

Upstairs in the nursery, Hope walks to the window.  They both look out at the garden together.

Hope can see Matthew and Jemma sitting next to one another on the terrace.  Jemma is leaning toward Matthew, laughing, and touching his arm.

"She can't seem to resist him.  Which is understandable.  Your uncle is incredible, Isaiah," Hope whispers.

Isaiah reaches out his hand and touches Hope's cheek.  Hope reaches for his hand, and gently kisses his palm as Isaiah smiles.

"But can Matthew can resist her?" Hope says, turning away from the window.

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