The Thirteenth Hour

Things looked grim.

He had sent the persuasion e-mail off, but had received no response yet. The days were ticking by faster and faster; soon, the party would be days away, and he hadn't gotten any reply. His pessimistic side was beginning to flare up again, insisting that it wouldn't work.

But as the clock struck the thirteenth hour, things began to flow again.

He spoke to his orchestra conductor; an outstanding, open-minded woman. To his relief, she understood his views completely, knowing almost all of the kids involved as it was. She sided with him as well, knowing perfectly well that they wouldn't do anything wrong. Amazingly, she even offered to be a reference should his parents prove stubborn.

There was hope again, because people who were slightly more respected, more trusted, and less biased in his parents' world took his side.

And the stream of dreams, the stream of hopes and wishes began to flow once more.