The Holmes Heist

Articulate. Calculated.

I had to be nothing short of a bridge engineer; one wrong move could cost more than lives. Pride was at stake here.

Sweat dripped profusely from my brow, and I asked myself for the hundredth time, “Is this good enough?” before deciding it was not and making changes again.

Not drastic ones, but meticulous ones no doubt.

My work needed to be dynamic enough for someone to notice. They had to.

For weeks, every time I thought it was done, I found myself coming back again, to tweak, to move, to critique my work from the day before.

Like a ransom note, I made sure every word held as much weight as the next.

I ran it through grammar analysis. No errors. Whew!

Finally, my submission was ready. This time, I would win.

I hit the submit button, only to wake the next day and find that my Top Story had been stolen by someone called Cathy Holmes.

I read her story.

It was good. A little too good. She must have made alliances with the prose mafia. I should have done that.

But this heist would not go unseen.

I’d be back.

+ +

Thank you for taking the time to read “The Holmes Heist.” This story has been written from a place of admiration and respect for a fellow Vocal writer whom I have frequently seen write at the top of her game lately.

So, Cathy, if you are reading this, WELL DONE and MUCH LOVE! But just know, the pen is never going to stop moving over here and I am coming for ya! ;) ♥️