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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-The_Talent_Scout-by_Christine_Venzon.docx

The Talent Scout By Christine Venzon he sinuous cry of blues guitar snaked from the living room, under the swinging door into the kitchen. At the T sink, Marti countered by rapping Corelleware against the garbage pail, knocking off remains of the night’s feast. Better, but not enough. She ran hot water and rattled the plates as she set them in, watching a foamy, Palmolive tide overwhelm each one before feeding it another. And still the notes pierced, pleaded, pure and true. Lucille swept in from the living room, flowing in an aquamarine peignoir, cradling wine glasses between jeweled fingers. “Don’t be doing that, baby. I’ll get it later.” “You shouldn’t do it all. Besides, I need to work off dinner.” “Hmph. You hardly ate. You don’t like my moussaka?” “No, it was great. I just wasn’t very hungry.” Marti scratched at crusted tomato sauce with a thumbnail. “So what do you think? Can the boy play? Lucille set a tray with coffee cups, sugar bowl, teaspoons, and carafe. “He got some talent, that’s for sure. You were right


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-The_Talent_Scout-by_Christine_Venzon.docx
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