Write a conversation or scene in which you show the emotional state of a character without using the word “feel” or “feelings.”(ex: “His feelings for her grew stronger,” vs “His heart pounded at the thought of waking up next to her.”)
“Ladies. Gentlemen,” Mrs. Quincy said in an unusually hesitant and subdued manner as she placed a large white shopping bag on top of the bench behind the black Kawai piano at the center of the practice room. “Your attention, please – I have an important announcement to make.”
Uh-oh, I thought. This doesn’t sound good….
Mrs. Quincy looked around the room, smiling gently as she did, but I noticed that her blue-gray eyes were dark and didn’t have their usual joyful spark. She gazed at us for a moment, as if she were trying to commit everyone’s faces to memory. Then, choosing her words with quiet determination, she spoke again.
“First, let me say that you, my dear young men and women, are among the best, most talented singers I have had the pleasure to teach in my 30 years as an educator. I’m honored to be in your presence, and I’m grateful to have been a member of South Miami High’s music department over the past 10 years.”
This really doesn’t sound good, I thought sourly as I sat at my usual place between the bass and tenor sections.
“Second,” Mrs. Quincy continued, “I have been offered – and I have accepted – a position at The Juilliard School as head of their vocal music department.”
A murmur, full of unease and surprise, rippled like a cold wave of ocean water through the practice room as this bit of news sank in. Surely, I heard my inner voice whispering in disbelief, she’s not talking about leaving at the end of the school year, right?
Almost as if Mrs. Quincy had somehow read my mind, she dropped the smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. In its place was a solemn, almost grim expression.
“I know that the Spring Concert is only seven weeks away, my dears,” Mrs. Quincy went on, “and I hope that you and the other ensembles will, as we say in the music world, go on with the show.” She paused, and for a brief moment, her eyes shone with unshed tears.
“I had, of course, no idea that I was going to be offered this job,” she said quietly. “I was looking forward to our final series of concerts this semester and sending the seniors among you off in style. Unfortunately, I need to start getting ready to move from Miami to New York as soon as possible, and that means today is my last day at this school.”
A collective moan of disappointment and confusion echoed across the room. I looked away from Mrs. Quincy, not wanting to hear any more bad news. As I did, my gaze fell on the alto section directly across the practice room from the baritones, and I saw an uncharacteristically pained expression on Marty’s face. She looked down at her Keds for Girls sneakers, averting her gaze from the teacher we had come to know and even love over the past few years as members of the Singing Cobras. I looked around the room; everyone had a stunned, what-are-we-going-to-do mien. Some of the girls wept unabashedly.
A Certain Point of View, Too 
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