300 Days of Writing
Day 49 Celebrity:
The crowd flocked the streets, shoving pregnant women out of the way and clambering over one another for a chance to see it.
Its gleaming hair reflected the noon day sun, a deceptively bright day but the temperature was freezing. Frost bit finger tips clawed at the police tape that held them back.
Becky had slept on the sidewalk for three days just for a chance to see It. Posters of the celebrity lined her bedroom walls back home, and she had carefully peeled her favorite off her door to take with her to the parade. She had the poster pressed against her skin under her puff jacket and cable knit sweater.
She just needed a chance to meet It. To get It alone. She needed It to know that she knew It, intimately. She knew Its favorite color was teal because of Its mother’s first car. She knew It hated olives on pizza but loved them in martinis. It loved decaf coffees and drank everything through a metal straw. She knew It conditioned Its hair three times a day and lived in a silken pink bathrobe. It only ever wore cashmere socks and never underwear.
Some of these facts she knew from magazines or the radio, others she knew because It told her.
She heard Its voice through the T.V. screen. During interviews with The Voice or Late Night shows, she heard It speak to her.
They belonged together, she and It. She knew this and she thumbed the revolver in her coat pocket as the parade inched nearer to her spot in the crowd. She only needed a moment alone that’s all. It would thank her after. It would appreciate her bravery.
Сайхан Бичээрэй!
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