Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Her Golden Age


She’d fallen asleep, in a gin-soaked state of careless dishabille, wishing for the glory of her youth. She wished to be the doe-eyed ingénue and the darling of all again.

She awoke and stumbled to the doorway, feeling confused. All color seemed drained from the world. She made to call for the staff, but found herself unable to speak. In a flash of insight, she realized why. This place…this scene…was from before the talkies existed.

Since nobody listened to her anymore, she didn’t truly mind. With a coy smile, she turned back to her cinematic world, home again at last.

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