Big Bird Blues...Saskatchewan Flats, Part 2

I was reading some of the stories at the Wednesday Weekly Writing Prompt and the story that I wrote earlier in the week seemed...well, sort of incomplete. So today I decided to write the second part of the story. The first part of this story (and other GREAT stories...) can be found at the Wednesday Weekly Writing Prompt Website: HERE.

You can also read the rules of how to write and submit your own story. It's both easy and fun! Here are the five words that I needed to incorporate into my story, you know, to make it official:

Bird

Kid

Loom

Soldier

Ostrich

Hope you enjoy it!

Big Bird Blues...

  
      “Of course he’s late,” was all I could think to say after I hung up the phone. I looked in on Savannah who was thankfully—finally—quietly playing in the front room. Should I tell her about her dad? I mean, hasn’t the kid suffered enough having Dave for a father? And now he’s going to be at least a day late because of some airplane problem in Canada. Nice going, Dave…and on Savannah’s birthday, too.
      He just had to go on that business trip, didn’t he…just had to chase that last dollar…just had to put his selfish needs above those of his wife, well, ex-wife, not to mention his daughter.
      “No, honey. Mommy’s too tired to play right now. Just turn on TV—I think Sesame Street’s on.” What a little soldier she’s been—going through a divorce at her age, just when she should be learning what a daddy and a mommy and a family is all about, not learning that life can really suck, sometimes.
      “Savannah, dear? Can you please turn that down?…Thanks, sweetie.” I guess my headache decided to stay with me from yesterday. And hearing Big Bird explain to Snuffle-what’s-his-name about how his house doesn’t have a roof just might make jump out the window. Good thing we’re 20 floors up and it’s a typical Chicago fall day…the cold would probably kill me before I hit the ground. I mean, what is Big Bird, anyway? Some huge yellow ostrich? I don't know...
      I guess I’d better go tell her about her father. That’s just like Dave to create another dark storm cloud to loom over her head. “Savannah? Could you come in here, please?”