Faith shifted nervously in her seat as she sat in traffic on the expressway for forty-five minutes. Finally, she decided to get off a few exits early and take the streets the rest of the way. Thirty minutes later, she managed to find parking four blocks away. She navigated the front desk, raced to building M, climbed up five floors, and found room 516-A.
She was out of breath, and a little sweaty, but she made it just in time.
Through embarrassment, her daughter smiled, “You don’t have to tuck me in every night, mom; I’ve been here three weeks.”
(So the singer part wasn’t officially in the story, but I did not break the sacred pact of the Story Jar. Rest assured, the teen in the story was a singer. Trust me.)