The Next Script

Marilyn Page tossed the package on the bed along with her keys. She had just returned from a grueling twelve-hour session at the movie set and desperately needed to sleep. She stepped out of her black mini and let it fall on the floor as she unbuttoned her shirt. “Those blasted directors are getting on my last nerves”, she muttered. Her cat, Angel, padded in and began to rub against Marilyn's ankles. She picked her up and cooed, “Sorry I'm so late. Did Katie feed you already?” The cat purred and rubbed her head against Marilyn's cheek. The woman smiled and released the cat which immediately jumped on the bed and settled cozily on one of the pillows.

At her bedroom mirror, Marilyn removed the remaining makeup and ran her fingers over the tiny lines that were beginning to show on her thirty-five-year-old face. Ten years ago she was the face of a leading cosmetic brand before a much younger model replaced her. After bitter months of denial, Marilyn accepted a job that demanded less of her face and more of her body.

Marilyn twisted her long blonde hair into a ponytail and opened the package. It was a script for another action adventure that her agent had sent for her review. “I'm getting too old for this”, she sighed as she read the script and marked the parts requiring a stunt double. She rubbed her aching back, a result of the terrible fall she took a year ago on an action stunt that went horribly wrong. The six months of physical therapy was just as grueling as any stunt she was asked to perform for those that walk the Hollywood red carpet on Oscar night.

Marilyn suddenly stopped reading and wrote one word - “No!”

Word count: 299