Hi,
here’s another piece of 20-minute fiction. Unedited apart from typos, punctuation and deletions. The writing prompts follow after the piece, enjoy!
She dropped the glossy magazine on the table. Her breath tasted of coffee as she sighed. It was over.
She’d tried everything to get back on the cover. Then just to get into the pages of the gossip magazine.
Nothing.
Her life was over. No one wanted to know. She wasn’t famous any more. Just a person. Cherry cried, pressing her phone to take a photo, then let it drop. It didn’t matter. She had followers but they weren’t watching her any more. If she killed herself they might glance at the photo. No more likes though.
She let the sobs judder up from her belly, shaking her, alone without anyone watching. No >HUGS< or >Luv U< to make it better.
He’d told her he’d finish her off if she left him. And he had.
She couldn’t resist checking his feed, knowing that it was another hit for his traffic. Bastard.
He looked happy. Wearing BanderaS. They’d worked on that deal together. Now he was getting the goodies, lying around in BanderaS ShortS and TeeS. Pouting at the poolside with BanderaS ShadeS. At least she didn’t have to deal with the ridiculous capitalisation. Hopefully he got arthritis from enforced use of the shift key.
He looked vulgar but pretty, like all famous people.
Like she used to. Cherry Kosimo.
Or Sarah, really. Just Sarah. She washed her face, her eyes puffy.
She still had to eat. No one looked at her on her way to the shop. Not like they should. She felt like an imposter, being herself. Her mind kept looking for ‘grammable moments but… there weren’t any. Just real life. Boring old nobody-cares reality. The air smelled of hot concrete, warm on her face. A bee buzzed around her, padding fuzzily against her fingers when she waved it away. The bakery was open. She bought a coffee, the cup warm in her hands, ate a bagel.
Cherry K, what are you doing? Carbs?!? LOL
But she was Sarah. She could do what she wanted.
A woman, lined cheeks, fawn-coloured hat and jacket was pushing at the shop door. It was too heavy and Sarah pushed it for her, holding it.
The old lady turned to Sarah. “You’re an angel, pet.”
I am, thought Sarah. I’m an angel in real life.
She lifted her sunglasses, rested them on her head. From behind their screen the supermarket, staff and customers sharpened into focus. Boring old real life. But real.
The prompts were:
famous
effect
sigh
vulgar
cherry
Dear Famous People,
I apologise. I needed to use the word “vulgar” and that’s just what came out. Sorry!
Regards,
Morgan
