by Katherine Napier
“I have to go soon”, she typed. “I have a photo shoot to get ready for and I have to be on time. They’re sending a Limo.”
: Why a Limo?
“Because some idiot in a Chevy hit my Lexus and now it’s in the shop.”
: Were you hurt?
“No, I’m ok. I’m lucky I didn’t break like a stick, though, with so little meat on my bones. The E.R. doctor said it was lucky nothing happened to my face, as pretty as he thought I was.”
: Speaking of which… why won’t you send me a pic?
“You know why. My contract doesn’t allow a freebie.” She grabbed a cigarette out of the pack and lit it, the spark of the lighter sending 4 cats running for the kitchen. She took a swig of her beer and, cigarette drooping off her bottom lip, she began to type more. “I’m sorry I’m so exclusive.”
: I understand…I guess.
She flicked her ashes into an over-full ashtray. “I’ll be going to a premiere after the shoot, so I won’t be online until tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
: Okay. Bye.
“Bye-bye.” She shut the computer down, stood up, and stretched her 5 foot frame as far as it would go. She stepped over the pile of newspapers on the floor, sending cats in all directions, and waddled toward the bedroom for a nap.