Reader’s Choice Contest Entry: The Golden Thread by J. E. Lillie

We received so many submissions for our recent writing contest (a short piece incorporating a symbol) that we had trouble selecting a winner. Therefore we’re running another contest for those who entered, this time a reader’s choice award. Between June 3- June 15 we will publish all of our favorite qualified entries received and open voting to the public, who will be able to select a reader’s choice winner for this contest. Those who are entered in the contest may encourage their family, friends and readers to vote for them.

Reader’s Choice Voting will be open from June 16th – 22nd. The entry with the most votes will win the contest.

Here is The Golden Thread by J. E. Lillie

The Golden Thread

by J. E. Lillie

James fingered the spool of golden thread in his pocket and thought “I’m not like them. I could never be like them.”

He found himself wondering about things like fate and DNA and wondered what role, if any, those things played in his course. He remembered the game he and his brothers played as little boys dropping spools of thread down the circular stairwell to see whose would go the farthest. James was the master of the game Somehow he could make his spool unwind down all three flights and into the parlor. Once it had rolled as far as the piano and his mother had told him, “That’s just like life. We create nothing really. Our only job is to follow the thread to its end and bring it all back together.”

His father had said “Pick up this mess. Why can’t you be more like your brothers?”

His brothers, whose spools had only made it to the first landing, said “Yeah James, why can’t you be more like us?”

If only James had been able to make his life about thread perhaps things would have been easier, but as a tailor he had been a colossal failure. Erratic hemlines and uneven inseams had eventually forced his father to let him go.

“You aren’t without prospects.” His mother had said that night as he packed his bags. She placed the gold thread and his sheet music atop his clothes before hugging him one last time.

James eyed the shabby velvet curtains and dusted the collar of his suit jacket.

“Follow the thread.” He muttered.

James kissed the precious spool, placed it back in his pocket and took the stage to play for the conservatory.


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