Exit Stage Left
I still like to look my best – my red coat with the high collar, a decent heel. It’s a smaller audience nowadays of course, but there’s the usual flutter of applause, the appreciative twitter. I bow my coiffured head in acknowledgement and reach for the rail to descend the stairs.
‘You’ve gone really pale.’
‘It’s that old crow at the end house. Says here she slipped and died in her own garden.’
‘What was she doing outside in this weather?’
‘Feeding the birds, it says. She was an understudy to the stars, there’s an old photo.’
‘Wow, what a beauty!’
Miranda Lewis 2020
Well this is a first, sending out my Friday Flash Fiction on the Wednesday…
Thanks to all who visit and especially those who stay to comment.