“You’ll love New York,” they said. “You’ll be a hit, no doubt about it.”
They were right. It was all I’d dreamed of – the razzle-dazzle, the buzz of new beginnings. And fame came quickly. My light blazed brightest of them all. I was loved. I brought hope to thousands.
Now, I feel the weight of the years. Although they tell me I still matter, I know I’ve become just a photo opportunity. They’ve grown used to me, complacent.
The harbour seems colder somehow. I feel its chill rising, seeping in. But I’ll stay. One day they’ll need me again.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, on her blog ‘Addicted to Purple’. This is my response to this week’s photo prompt. You can read all the other stories here.