Short story 7

George was now 14. He was not only good at art; he had a good voice, so he was in the school choir. There was a festival of local choirs coming up at the town hall. Their choir practiced very hard after school every day, and they were building high hopes.

George was asked to sing the second verse as a solo. He was somewhat surprised, but flattered and enjoyed that.

On the day of the festival the music master along with the English mistress took them all along to the centre of town in a bus.

It went very well at the town hall. George forgot about being nervous, and there was rapturous applause. In fact they were awarded the first prize.

Afterwards they made their own way home by the normal bus route. George got on the bus with his mates Jim and Claude. They were followed up the stairs by a half dozen girls that had been at the concert, giggling, joking, and throwing kisses.

“They fancy you,” said Jim, digging George in the ribs. George was embarrassed. He did not know where to hide. “Go and talk to them. See if you can get a date.”

“I don’t want a date.”

“Perhaps you’ll become famous ,” said Claude

“I don’t want to be famous.”

“Perhaps you could become an opera singer,”

“Or a film star.”

“I don’t want to be famous, or an opera singer, or a film star, or to get a date. I just want to grow up quickly and be able to leave home!”


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Thank you, Keith Beal