For years, I had harboured the dream of becoming the queen of the tinsel town. The new contract in my hand promised me just that. It was a jackpot. I tore it off. Aiming to hit the bin, I gave it a flight. I missed the aim. In that moment, the crumpled paper and the tinsel meant nothing to me. Or did it? The voice inside me yelled, “You FOOL!”.
I stood up and dialed the agent’s number, “Ludwig! Can you arrange another copy of the contract? The first one got into an irretrievable state.” The other voice said, “As you say Madam.”
This is the first time I am doing a pure fiction piece within a word limit.
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