I raced home as quickly as I could on my two
short legs.
I couldn’t wait to tell my father
about the religious poster contest.

As I flung open the front door, I noticed the house seemed strangely unsettled.

I could hear my father’s voice coming from the parlor, but I didn’t know who he could be talking to.
Perhaps he was on the telephone?

I listened from where I was standing in the foyer.
What was he saying?

All I heard was his voice; obviously having a conversation with someone, his lisp present.