Hey there writers! Today is another glorious day! I shot my first paid photoshoot of the summer and they turned out, AMAZING! What else is amazing? What you will write from this prompt below:
“Write a scene or story that occurs when an imposter makes their way into the setting.” – Writer’s Digest, Cassandra Lipp, https://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/imposter-syndrome
“I don’t understand why you have to wear that mask,” my overly-careful wife states.
“Because, I’m going to be on camera when I go and collect the money. I can’t let people recognize me or else we’ll have our long lost fourth cousins showing up at our doorstep asking for some of the money.” I say.
“Well, don’t you think that what you’re wearing is a bit… much?” She asks.
I look back at the mirror and admire my replica full body scuba-armor from my favorite TV show. Mom always told me that it was a waste of money. Well, look who’s laughing now mom! I just won forty-five million dollars and the replica body armor is what will conceal my identity.
“Nah.” I say, “Plus, I bought this a long time ago. It needs to get some use. I made sure to spend a little extra on my bank’s app called PayBuddy which protected me when I bought it too. You know, in case it was a scam and wasn’t real. I don’t want that money to go to waste even though we are going to be rich!”
“Uh huh.” my wife says. “Go. The lottery offices will be closed in an hour.”
I take off the helmet and kiss her forehead. She smiles sweetly and hands me my car keys.
I pull up to the building as another car backs out and almost hits me. I enter the building with the winning numbers and approach the clerk.
“Hi, my name is Mr. Robbins, I’m here to collect my winnings.” I say.
The clerk looks at me then looks down uninterested.
“Excuse me, sir. I’m here to collect my winnings.” I repeat.
“You already collected it. You can’t collect the same winnings twice.” the clerk says.
Confusion reigns through my body. “What do you mean? I just got here!” I stammer.
“Yeah, and I was born yesterday. Get the hell out of here before I call security.”
“Sir, I think there has been a misunderstanding! There is.. I mean.. I just got here!”
Aggravation spreads across the clerks face as he rubs his forehead and sighs. He goes to his computer and does some typing and clicking. He then turns the computer screen and shows me a picture of myself holding the forty-five million dollar check and shaking hands with the Powerball announcer.
“Wha… buh…. how…” I’m flabbergasted. Astonished. Bewildered. No word can describe the confusion and perplexation. There I am, in my replica armor. But how? “Sir, do you have security cam footage?” I ask.
Another sigh and he turns the computer screen back to him. After a few moments, he brings up footage that was twenty-minutes before I arrived. There I am, showing ID, accepting the check, getting the picture, and then… There it was, the man took off the helmet to reveal glowing blonde locks of hair as he gets into his vehicle. It was the back of his head, but as he took off, my car comes into view and the man almost hits me.
My hair is short, and brown.
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