Lancaster, Ohio
Congratulations Emily!
Emily’s Bio:
Emily Howson is a senior at the University of Dayton, the home of humor writer Erma Bombeck. She has been devoted to reading since she was a little girl, but she only recently began to take writing seriously. She finds her storytelling voice in her family—a combination of her grandmother’s approachable charm, her grandfather’s bluster, her mother’s gushing excitement, and her father’s bizarre sense of humor. Her work with professors Stephen Wilhoit and Joseph Pici has nurtured and pruned her abilities. She is interning as an editor with Just Business, Inc. in Dayton, OH, helping to produce performing arts publications. Right now, Emily’s life is full and crazy and wonderful, and she’s spending every moment she can with her roommates and her boyfriend of five years.
Most recently, her stories have appeared in Orpheus, University of Dayton’s literary magazine, and The St. Anthony Messenger. She is currently attempting to create a novel for young adults. Emily will graduate in May 2009 with degrees in English and Psychology, and she hopes to pursue a life writing, reading, and editing.
Jenny
A bra probably don't speak a thousand words, but I've seen a lot of bras in my day. They speak a few. Jenny always wore a red bra, real tiny with a bunch of lace. Man, what a picture. She drove a red car too. One of those convertibles in fire-engine, lipstick-on-your-collar red. She worked at her dad's office, answered phones for him and his old man lawyer buddies. Hated her job, she said. That's why she liked to hang out with me. She'd say, "Clark, you're a genuine guy. You don't care about impressing anyone. That's why I like you, Clark. Just a real genuine guy."
I guess I couldn't have been that great though, because we didn't see each other all that much. About once a month she'd call me up, come over and show me that bra of hers. Afterwards, we'd order pizza and she'd tell me about which parts of her life she hated the most. But then she went and got engaged. Won herself a nice ring from a man her dad played golf with. And the best part, she said, was that she wouldn't have to answer the phones anymore. But she also couldn't come over anymore. Except maybe when she got to feeling really crappy, she said.
So I didn't ever see her after that. I started hanging out with a girl who wears white cotton and works at Denny's. She likes to work because she's saving up for the two of us to get a place together. Sometimes, when it's dark and the two of us are moving together, I think about Jenny and her red bra. I think of how it could have been with me and her, if maybe I played golf and knew a bunch of lawyers.
But I think things worked out for the best, because sitting in Denny's one morning I read that she went to get gas for that little car and got shot all to hell by some dumbass trying to rob the place. Real sad. No more red-hot car, no more red-hot bra. Too bad, though, ya know? Because I really did like that girl.
***