Earth, the shy heiress, strutted past Jupiter in his starry high floating heels and the holographic mist of gases–golden, amber and ivory. She felt underdressed.
The parched tint she had tried to hide under the layer of green satin, was very evident. The blue was over-draped in fumy grey.
Earth wanted to show off ‘vibrance’, the theme.
Her chief stylist was a big time procrastinator and his last minute decisions gave her dress the texture of grey-green-rotting meat.
She had taught him the ABCs of the trade, given him a chance when nobody else would.
“...hot cutter…cuter…haught…coucher….” He had even struggled at pronouncing Haute Couture.
At first she thought he was making passes at her, later they became thick friends, until his rise of fame.
Nothing was going as planned.
She rang him. “At the tone leave a message for….” She ended the voicemail.
Just then Pluto walked by. The shutterbugs rushed past Earth to capture the least popular one in avant garde icy shimmer.
“It’s not even a planet!”
This was urgent, now. Earth called the stylist again, and again, trying to reach for him behind the veil of voicemail.
“One last time before I take matters in my own hands.” She called again. ”At the tone leave a message for Human….”
Earth erupted, spewed lava all over her attire; burning…the glow and the drama were the best anyone had seen. Shutterbugs ran to her.
Her DM apps were flooding with applause and forwards of more applause.
After she was done, she sighed, whispering under her breath. “You are fired Haughty Coucher.”
Saturday 24 June 2023
'Planets at Intergalactic Met Gala' by Suchi Stava
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