Prisoner

barbed2bwire2bprompt1
Madison Woods

The story is out.  I wake up to countless unread messages and reporters and paparazzi parked outside my gates.  My publicist and manager are ringing the bell incessantly.  My assistant lets them in.  It isn’t their first time seeing me wild-haired in my pajamas.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got all this under control.”

“Tell us what you need.”

I pause. “I want to walk my dog to the beach.”

We look out the window at the chaos of shoving reporters and flashbulbs, knowing they’ll never be able to give me the one thing I crave – freedom.

For Friday Fictioneers

Advertisements

12 thoughts on “Prisoner

  1. Teeee-RIFFIC! I just got back from Las Vegas and saw Britney Spears there at the swimming pool at the Flamingo hotel where she performs. I’m sure she could relate to that story. 🙂

    1. Lol! I would too. I would come to LA or New York or whatever for work, but I would have a private estate somewhere. There are some that view at as a prison, but it’s sort of a prison of their own creation.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s