There would be no cameras nor media standing by to snap a picture and interview her when she finished.
No award ceremony, no playing of the national anthem and most certainly no crowds waving flags and Bristol board signs in the air with her name scrawled in magic marker and embellished with silver and gold glitter.
When she finished she’d be alone with her thoughts and a sinking feeling that no matter how many times she assured herself that glamour and glitz was completely overrated, she still yearned for the spotlight.
They don’t give awards for my event, she reminded herself, tossing a black plastic bag stuffed with the remnants of her life into the back of her ex husband’s pickup truck.
No, it may be a victory to her, but few really cared that this would be the last time her ex husband made a fool of her.
Check out Lillie McFerrin’s blog for more flash fiction.