her delusional front #fiction

She’d use social media to share news about events in her neighbourhood. This went on for years. Yet, not once did she go out and help them? She would appear to raise money for charities in the same way. Asking the good folk to give money to the needy. She’s a multi-millionaire – yet, a mere portal.

If she put on her shoes – left the mansion – physically got involved and donated time to the causes she seemingly cared about she wouldn’t need social media to produce a personality based on shares and accreditation. She’d have respect from the people on her doorstep. The folk who go beyond the celebrity circuits and repetitive prizes and big fake smiles that circulate around the same – year – after – year. But she doesn’t want that. There’d be no glory in walking amongst volunteers – wearing the T Shirt. She’s above it. Her only mantra, ‘Why have friends? I want fans.’

She writes fiction – A Level English – a wiz at Mastermind. A good all-rounder. A collective of fragments of other characters she’s stolen along the way. An obsession with the business of others. A pioneer for women to dislike men – to seek revenge. This is what we buy in to – but it doesn’t have to be like this. For the wealthiest souls are on the streets today – in their communities – being kind. Mothers, daughters, sisters as one in a circle of light. It’s never too late to change unless you dwell in the third dimension – for there is no light in the darkness.


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