Time again for Friday Fictioneers; how the weeks are just flying by.
Resisting the urge to go ‘gladiatorial’ (not to mention my recently revived taste for ‘offing’ people) I’ve elected for a bit of social commentary. Again. 😉
Thanks again to Rochelle for weekly stage direction duties.
‘Fat, flat and frumpy!’
Stacey flounced off the stage, fuming. Who did he think he was? Dickhead! Trousers under his armpits, built-up shoes.
And what was this ‘fat’ business? 200 pounds was a good weight for her age and height.
She’d show them all. Her Dad called her his ‘little star’ and that’s what she was going to be, whatever it took. A ginormous star, world-wide.
She passed the stage door-keeper engrossed in his newspaper. A face beamed out at her from the back page, all dreadlocks and lip-gloss.
Yeeessss! Stacey punched the air.
Tennis! How hard could that be?
Some unease about the expletive in this, but a synonym search, (whilst illuminating 🙂 ) didn’t throw up a suitable alternative. Sorry if anyone’s offended – I’m open to alternative suggestions.