Life
as a super model was almost everything Edmont and Cera had ever
wanted. The work was easy. They went to the gallery and posed from
sun up to sun down, while everyone, men, women, and children, fawned
over them and took their pictures. Their pictures beamed, bright and
glossy on billboards and magazine covers and promotional items for
their managing museum. People came from all over the world to see
them. They were magnificent, and they knew it.
It
wasn't all sunshine and roses, however. They didn't get to travel as
much as they would like. They didn't get to travel at all, in fact.
They would never see Paris or New York or Milan. They would never
share the Fashion Week runways. They never got to wear the best
designers. For that matter, they never got to wear anything at all.
They were only ever hired for nude work, and some days it took all
they had not to feel degraded. Most of all, however, they disliked
the diets. It was not uncommon for models of their fame to look
emaciated, but for fear of being replaced, Edmont and Cera felt
compelled to eat so little as to remain down right skeletal.
Still,
they were stars. It had taken a long time—sixty-five million years
to be precise—but they were finally famous.
- Originally mailed to P. Wilkinson from Vancleave, Mississippi
No comments:
Post a Comment