After the funeral. I'm hiding in Mother's bathroom watching a skincare video about necks. Cheap black dress that chafes. Illicit cigarette. Sitting on the toilet amid her decorative baskets, her red jellyfish soaps, her black towel sets. Smoke comes tumbling out of my mouth in amorphous gray clouds. I blow it out the window where the palm trees still sway and the alien sun still shines and the sky is a blue that hurts my eyes. ....Rouge by Mona Awad
Friday, October 13, 2023
First Lines Friday...
I love that second sentence. I don't know why, but watching a video about necks just seems so funny to me. This has gotten a lot of great buzz and it's on my TBR list.