Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

A quote: “A life without fame can be a good life, but fame without a life is no life at all.” ~~ Clive James

I’ll start with a story …

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Production ceased and crew went on to other jobs. But she couldn’t let go. It had been her life, her reason to get up in the morning. Even as a child, the adulation of others had thrilled her.

And her parents who saw her as their ticket to an easy life.

Fame was fickle. She was now in the “whatever happened to …?” category.

Undeterred, she studied trends like others studied advanced engineering. She took to social media to claim the hottest thing. And booked a videographer to be in the operating room as she tried to regain the spotlight.

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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.

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5 Comments
  • Debi Gulotta says:

    Not since Katherine on The Young andcthe Restless had such an event been shared with television viewers. With the internet now, instantly inviting the interested individual would be an unheard of accomplishment. Her parents, of course, took credit for the idea, but only she could perform under sedation. What no one had foreseen happened – an allergic reaction to the anesthetic. As operating room personnel swirled around her gurney, running for oxygen, running for intravenous benadryl to negate the anaphylactic reaction, her parents watched, thinking about the great human interest story happening right before their eyes. She couldn’t have planned it better, her mother thought. Until she went into cardiac arrest. The efforts of the trained staff were unsuccessful. Sadness and a feeling of failure overcame the operating room. Her parents were so excited. They thought this was a gold mine. She would be remembered by the world and they would cash in on the residuals. If there was any love in this family, it failed to make an appearance, and the cameras would tell the story

  • Cameron says:

    I looked at the woman and tried to reconcile her face with the superstar on the red carpet.

    “I don’t get it. You had-”

    “More money than God, Hollywood was at my beck and call and several blockbuster movies. So why walk away after that movie wrapped up?”

    “If you don’t mind saying it,” I replied.

    She grinned at me. “I had no interest in screwing my way to the top. I knew after that movie was done, I had a choice to make.” She patted her abdomen and smiled at her husband. “I think I made the best one.”

  • Leigh Kimmel says:

    I still remember how devastated I was when my parents announced I was staying in Iowa for the summer. The annual visits to Aunt Kate and the cousins in Moscow had started as medical checkups, but they soon became an annual vacation, even a home away from home.

    And then came the summer break when I asked whether my ticket had come through yet, only to be told there wouldn’t be one this year. Things are changing, they told me, and I needed to accept that decision.

    At the time it had seemed so unfair, even cruel to just rip away my favorite time of the year. It took all the things that should’ve been fun about summer in rural Iowa — the county fair, the Independence Day parade, the family reunion — and made them taste like ashes.

    But now that I’m a grown woman, married with children of my own, I can understand why my parents did it, even if it could’ve been handled better. What girl doesn’t dream of being a princess? For most Americans, princesses are in fairy tales, or countries far away, seen in tabloids or the entertainment news channel.

    Because Aunt Kate married into Russia’s new Imperial Family after the Miracle of the Lightning Bolt, I had genomic princes as playmates. No problem as long as we were all little kids, but once I reached a certain age, they were starting to notice me as more than just someone to play tag with in the dacha gardens. Which meant it was only a matter of time before I responded to their attention. Better to stop the problem before it could start.

    Except my parents’ plan to ensure I remained an ordinary American didn’t go quite as planned. Academician Voronsky’s treatments to make my lungs grow properly enabled me to survive birth and have a normal life, but also marked me out in a time of growing hostility toward genetic engineering. Instead of the unremarkable workaday life my parents had planned for me, I was thrust headlong into the Sharp Resistance. So here I live at Sparta Point, doing logistical support for the fight to protect the basic human rights of people like me.

  • Navig8r says:

    My hobby photos had placed well in a few contests. If they would bring a little extra cash commercially, even nicer.

    “You had that position and this is the closest you have to a booty shot?!”

    “Those are kind of in bad taste.”

    “Taste? Either your parents raised you way too well or you are just not hungry enough for this business! Don’t quit your day job.”

    He was right on several counts. My parents had raised me well. Dad taught me how to use tools, so I have a day job. Because of it, I do not go hungry.

  • Dupin says:

    Well, another quiet evening gone. I should never have talked to that reporter. I should’ve left the past in the past.

    I survived the embarrassment, the absolute lewdness of it, not just for me but for the other girls. We were changing. We were naked. But he thought he owned us, at least for that time.

    He said that he could get away with things like that, and he did. At least I did compete in the Miss Teen USA Pageant, and he didn’t grab me like he says he’s done with other girls.

    Still, I shouldn’t have said.

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