Once, fame had been his drug. Now, those covers were nothing but an anathema. A reminder of his age. All he wanted was peace. But they always found him. Somehow. He took a deep breath. Tossed his hair. Smiled. Maybe just one photo he thought as the giggling middle-aged women approached.
Late to the game for the “anathema” 52 word challenge, but thanks to Sammis Scribbles for an excuse to use it in a story and to Linda’s SoCS Challenge for a reason to write about FABIO!
Tina Stewart Brakebill 