Creative Writing : A Short Story

“Pardon me, but just how are you going to keep people from learning your name? Even if you use an assumed name, they’ll still recognize you elsewhere.” He slumped in his chair. “I guess I won’t be able to work with you then, sir. I don’t want the notoriety that could come.” The owner winced. “Tell you what, son, I’ll talk with some of the others and see if we can’t figure something out. If anything changes, you’ll be called right away. Sound good?” “Yes sir.” Blake left the stuffy office and walked out to his car. This had been his dream for so long, it almost physically hurt to see it slip away. Racing – and school in between racing and training – had been his life for so long. Oh well, if it wouldn’t work, it wouldn’t work. …show more content…

I can get back to you tomorrow, though. Is that all right?” “Yes indeed. We hope to have you with us, Blake. You’re a smart racer and a good person. Call whenever you can.” Blake hung up, pinched himself, and shook his head. He couldn’t believe what had happened! Prayer really did work wonders, and in the oddest ways. He looked at his watch, registered the time, and ran up the stairs - two at a time - to grab a clean shirt and some deodorant before small group. “Does anyone have any prayer requests or praises tonight?” Nikki asked. “Perseverance and patience in my work,” said Jaime. “It’s been pretty hard lately, and there’s some big stuff going on, so, yeah, thanks!” “I do too. I can’t give details, but I’d like prayer in a major decision, and praise that I’ve been given this opportunity.” Blake chuckled. “I’d like to second Aaron’s comment, because he worded it much better than I was going to.” Nikki smiled at him. “Anyone else? All right, let’s pray.” Hearing everyone come together to support him in prayer calmed Blake’s heart. Afterwards, the group split up, some heading home, others chatting, still others heading up to the counter to get a sustaining Caribou latte for the way home. Nikki finished talking with Lizzy, who was new, and then came over to Blake. “So, how’s life?” “Good. Busy. You?” “About the same. Oh, and my dad says to tell you that he wants to talk to you.” Blake tried to