May The Writer: Famous After Death?

May rolled over lazily on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “Sarah?”

“Yeah?” her friend replied from her spot at the computer desk.

“Think people will recognize my true talent when I’m dead, you know, like Shakespeare?”

“….People loved Shakespeare.”

She sat up, voice becoming high. “You know what I mean! Like, it seems so impossible now, that I’ll EVER get recognized…”

There was a silence as her friend mulled over this, fingers clicking away at the mouse. She finally spoke. “Yeah, it is impossible.”

May fell back into the pillows, wailing. “You’re my friend! You’re supposed to encourage meee!”

Sarah laughed. “There’s not a single person remembered for being a ‘could’ve been great if only she actually wrote something’ writer.”

May sprawled out, ignoring her and beginning to sing. “Sha la la! Itsukakito~”

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