A whole world on a single page!
The short story morsels of One Page Worlds are flash fiction adventures of all flavors. Every Wednesday will feature a complete story in one page, or the first page of what could be a novel or novelette.
Sharing the fun and geekery is the best part of writing! Please tweet or comment with your guesses on what genre, character, and job is central to each tale. Enjoy touring new universes each week with One Page Worlds!
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“All the twenty-somethings want is to copy my lyrics so they sound smarter. No one needs the real Caren Spencer anymore.”
Slamming the old smartphone on the nightstand, I tossed my hair back and the wig slipped off. It fell among the digitally rendered sand and grasses making up the ‘furnished’ beach hut inside the residential suite. Old folk’s home, Caren. You had five platinum albums, and now you have one platinum blonde wig to your name. Admit it. You’re done influencing young people. A DR’d room and one out-of-fashion costume closet is how it ends.
Once muscular male CNA entered and bent to pick the wig up. Then he muttered, “Could be on date now. Concert. With Drew. Instead cleaning up has-been’s costumes.”
Extending a wrinkled hand, I said, “Hi, I’m Caren Spencer and I have ears. Who’re you?”
He spaced out at me. Twenty-somethings nowadays communicated as little as possible and tuned out sound when their own thoughts were more entertaining to them. Your last days’ll be interruptions, ignorance, and the runs. All while being ignored.
I breathed the DR’d sea breeze and sighed. “Hey nameless kid. You want Drew’s jaw to hit the floor when he sees you tonight?”
The CNA’s eyes scrunched up, the expression asking what I meant.
“Pick something from the closet and let him show you off,” I said, taking the wig he offered me. “The rack on the left is button-ups. Get a blue one. It’ll compliment your golden hair.”
A twinkle replaced the spaced-out look and the CNA hopped into the closet. He emerged two minutes later, wearing a navy button-up with sequins down the arms and sides that made the cut look sharper. It stretched at the right places on his arms too.
I waved a hand and smirked, a classic get-goin’ gesture.
He threw me the smile that would steal his crush’s heart, then pointed to himself and said, “James.”