Washed Up

As Skai recieved her groceries from the stout polo and khaki wearing figure she began entranced in thought. Grabbing the grey translucent bag filled to the brim with anything from razors to a “Love, Actually” dvd it hit her. Had she finally achieved true anonymity from then? This thought bringing forth a sense of melancholy. Was her purpose gone, or merely diluted? Typical of her to let the lack of social awareness of a 40 year old target worker to let her value her worth. Leaving the parking lot, driving through the downtown muscle memory almost told her not to. Knowing that vulture like paparazzi could be tucked in behind any alleyway awaiting to catch her the teen sensation. Yet now washed up, those vultures flew at the sight of younger prey, not mid 20s aged meat. Arriving home, exhausted, how did the average person manage to create time like that to fetch groceries on the weekly? This had been the first time since pre exposure Skai had done something like that. She sat in her living room now, confiding in the crevices of her couch as she scrolled through her messages. Erasing the half written “can you grab my groceries text” she nearly sent her assistant and watching the words vanish from her mind. The task could have been completed by him, yet nowadays Skai just didn’t have the money, or need to avoid the public.

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