T is for Tidbits
Emily had been working on the TV show for five years now.
“Two from Box A!” shouted the host, the proxy for a shy contestant. “One from Box Y!”
Emily gathered up the pipe cleaners, the mesh and the glue from the boxes as they were shouted out. She wondered what monstrosity the children would make today. Another pipe-cleaner spider, she thought glumly. Stupid kids, no imagination these days.
“One from Box T!”
God, they could at least try and get them in alphabetical order so she didn’t have to run across the entire warehouse every time. She picked out an array of glitter and dyed feathers, all the while trying to keep that brilliant smile for the cameras. Inwardly, she was cursing her life.
Arms full, she ran back to deliver the gaudy objects to the host and the nervy kids, thinking twice about dumping them on the wallpaper table in front of them, angrily flipping the table over, unclipping her mic, spitting some vitriol and storming off set. Instead, she serenely placed down the parts, soon destined for landfill, and patted the contestants on the head.
“Good luck!”
This wasn’t the glitz and glamour of fame she had imagined.