It's a long wait in the grocery store checkout line. She absentmindedly pulls her lipstick from her purse while dumping out some half dozen sticks of gum, a box of floss and some laundry receipts on the newspaper rack. Squinting into the glass of the soda cooler for a second, she decides instead to dig a compact out and use that.

She takes a quick look in the little mirror and pulls two or three loose strands of hair off her forehead. Finally she uncaps the lipstick, sliding it on and around with a quick roll of her lips to finish. Bright red. Neon, with an echo. Playing off her bare shoulders and low cut blouse,

red next to white

Her skin has the color of that whitepink line on watermelon- that space between the rind and the real fruit. Not white, not pink. Not sweet, not bitter. In between.


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