Callie and Gavin: A Short Story Essay

1558 Words 7 Pages
Worry was the word of the day for Gavin. Everything that he should have remembered, he didn’t and everything he wanted to remember was starting to fade. He stood at the entrance of the park with the torn picture of him and his mother, thumbing the torn edge to relive his growing concern. After what happened to Seny and Zaq, it seemed like his forgetfulness surged forward like a bullet train. Not being able to remember his morning schedule was the least of his problems because he now discovered that his violin playing had become atrocious. A few hours before walking to the park, he decided to pick up the instrument and hit a few sweet notes. Sweet was nothing near to what Gavin had played. Having a lack of practice was a real possibility …show more content…
Worry was the word of the day for Gavin. Everything that he should have remembered, he didn’t and everything he wanted to remember was starting to fade. He stood at the entrance of the park with the torn picture of him and his mother, thumbing the torn edge to relive his growing concern. After what happened to Seny and Zaq, it seemed like his forgetfulness surged forward like a bullet train. Not being able to remember his morning schedule was the least of his problems because he now discovered that his violin playing had become atrocious. A few hours before walking to the park, he decided to pick up the instrument and hit a few sweet notes. Sweet was nothing near to what Gavin had played. Having a lack of practice was a real possibility but he dismissed it when he reminded himself how bad it sounded. Now, standing in the growing wind, he softly bit into his tongue and stared at the path ahead. No one was walking on this day, probably because of the nip in the air. He hoped that the freshness of the wind could shock some sense into him and help resolve at least some problems, but he doubted it. He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, deciding on whether or not to push forward. His emotions seemed to have the power to root him on the spot, to keep him from moving an inch until he paid attention to them. He squeezed his eyes shut a few times and placed the picture back into his pocket.
I have a few options. I could either ask Marquis about me not remembering;

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