Tarnished Gold

I dragged my hands through my hair and let out a sigh so loud it stopped the actors on stage in their tracks. I could see the worry on their faces. All they wanted to do was impress me but what they were doing wouldn’t impress a tramp. This lot were useless.

What had happened to the ‘glory days’? I had directed blockbusters, had been known in the smallents countries on Earth, had mingled with the young and the beautiful.

Now I sat on the fragile Director’s chair in the dim stage lights, and it was as if all that happened to someone else.

Gone was the riches and the fame, along with everything else I once cherished. It went with the going of the tide. The stage I now governed was no larger than the bathroom in the million pound villa I had to sell.

And, yes, the convention-goers loved me. The science nerds who watched every episode of Space Wars.

Now the only people who recognise me in the street are those who think I’m Michael Winner.

“Let’s go again,” I sighed. And again. And again…

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