The Model
I was sitting on a bench at one side of the room, a small suitcase filled with clothes beside me. Beautiful girls and photographer's assistants swirled around me, although none of them paid any attention to me. I was there to try and start chasing a dream, although right now it seemed like little more than a foolish quest fueled by some stupid ambition. I was a forty year-old divorcée, the mother of two boys, and I had always thought of myself as fairly pretty, at least in my own narcissistic...