High-Strung, Middle-Aged

Steve turned off his phone, adjusting his collar as he slid it into his pocket. He really should have just left it at home, but trying to keep track of his follower count was addictive. He smoothed the ruffles on his sleeves as he picked up the bow.

His parents would have some choice words for him if they could see him now. It was bad enough playing pretend as a kid, let alone as a grown man. Stories were just transient travelers across the landscape of the mind, until you wrote them down.

He didn’t care much if anyone took him seriously. That wasn’t what this was about. The fair gave him a chance to take a break from real life.  Nobody needed to be in the office as much as he was. He earned this.

Steve strung his bow, reveling in the gaze of the onlookers. They cheered and jeered, a few trying to heckle him. He winked at the former and ignored the latter. This was what really mattered.

Prompt: Transient


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