She had sat here, on this small blue chair so many times. Yet, this time felt different. She was a grown woman now, with towering stilettos and a towering career to match. Yet...
When she sat on the blue chair, she remembered. She remembered what it was like to have grandiose dreams of being a Hollywood starlet or a famous singer, going from show to show, leaving a trail of hearts in her wake. Or maybe she was a artist living in Paris, drifting from painting to lover and back to painting again. She had forgotten what it was like to dream. And no career would ever whisper dreams to her, no matter how big the promotion.
She gripped the blue chair tight as her heart and head fought the battle. Her soul watched smugly from the sidelines, already knowing the war was won.
All it had taken was a small chipped blue chair...
