Today we write about: karma.
At my writing group last Wednesday someone brought up Bruce Cockburn's Call Me Rose, which begins 'My name was Richard Nixon, only now I'm a girl. You wouldn't know it but I used to be the king of the world'.
She suggested that it would be an interesting prompt to start off with "My name was", insert the name of your choice (either famous or not or fictional), and go from there. So feel free to go that route, or take another spin altogether.
My name was Brad Pitt but they don't call me that anymore. I used to break hearts on an hourly basis - even in my sleep. I couldn't walk down the street of any town in America without being mobbed by paparazzi and autograph hounds.
It was all rather tiring. I just wanted to be left alone. Now I am of average height and looks, my hair has more bad days than good, and acne considers my face prime real estate. Girls don't look twice at me, boys don't need to decide if they'd be better off with me as a friend or foe.
In fact, nobody seems to care about me one way or the other.
It's all quite lonely and depressing, really.