8thdayfiction

…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Taylor Lennox Bono

Taylor sat there staring at her phone, waiting for a call. She pretty much knew the call wasn’t going to come and that she should just get on with her evening and do something productive, but she felt compelled to sit there and wait anyway.

The past few months had been rough for her. Work had dried up. Apparently, no one was interested in hiring a professional Annie Lennox impersonator any more.

Check that–apparently no one was interested in hiring a female Annie Lennox impersonator any more. Her friend Wayne, whom she had met at last year’s LennoxCon, was working like crazy. Every weekend he was off lip-synching “No More I Love Yous” at some hotel ballroom or something.

And Taylor was happy for him. He wasn’t taking any work away from her. They lived in different states; she knew about his exploits via their weekly phone calls and texts to each other.

But she was a little jealous. And frustrated. She was an awesome Annie Lennox–her lip-synched “Walking On Broken Glass” brought the house down EVERY TIME.

So Taylor decided at that moment that enough was enough and a change was in order. She could take a hint–if no one was going to call, she was going to hang it up as Annie Lennox, dye her hair, and make a go of it as a Chaz Bono impersonator.

There was a lot for Taylor to do, not the least of which was completely revamping her Web site. But that could wait.

She grabbed her car keys, made a point of leaving her phone behind on the coffee table, and headed out, humming “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” to herself as she shut the door behind her.

Taylor knew she’d never be a decent Chaz Bono with an Annie Lennox figure, so starting tonight, the Lennox Diet was going to be terminated with extreme prejudice. Next stop: The Cheesecake Factory.

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