When he had first read the newspaper advert, he’d been all for it. Sure, it was only a role for drive-on extras, but you never know where these things might lead. For all he knew he could have ended up as the next Optimus Prime – complete with shiny new paint job and Megan Fox draped over his full leather interior.
Geoffrey Prime, he thought, had a good ring to it.
Yet here Geoff sat for the 13th day in a row; oversized props glued to his once pristine chassis and a clapped-out rust-bucket with verbal diarrhoea for a parking buddy.
This piece was submitted as part of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 1 photograph. 100 words. Often with over 100 people taking part.
Don’t be shy, leave a reply