by S.M. Grantham
Anticipation had been building since Tuesday evening when Charlotte had first overheard the whisper. Now Saturday, she couldn’t help but wonder if today would be the day, and, if so, in what form the news would arrive. Her expectation had sprouted by mere happenchance while shopping at Olivia’s, the local New York style grocer; stooping over chocolate bars, she heard a familiar hush of voices through shelves of pasta one aisle over. Stan, Sylvia and Juliette, friends from her neighborhood writing group, were whispering excitedly about one of their own, but with the rumor now four days old, Charlotte couldn’t be certain her hope was warranted. Try as she might, however, she couldn't curtail it. With every phone call, email, and text, she jumped; silence, then finally the violent slam of the postman in the hallway delivering an auspicious envelope carrying congratulations: You are this year’s Newbury Short Story Award winner.
S.M. Grantham is a full-time writer and suspense novelist currently living in Chicago. She blogs here.