| Good Night Lily |
Mary walked into O'Malleys cocktail
lounge at 9:00 PM sharp and Bill the
piano player keyed the first few bars of
“Miss America” as he did every night
upon her entrance.
She looked the same as always, an old
green sequined blouse hung off her
rounded, stooped shoulders. Her skirt
was an ankle length gold lame, but the
gold had worn in spots and was
threadbare around her curvier areas.
Her lipstick line went far beyond her
natural lip, her apple doll cheeks had
thick pink circles of rouge, and where
her real eyebrows should have been
were two hand drawn crescents that did
not match each other or the shape of
her face. Her thin bleach blond-yellow
hair cupped her puffy face like the old,
Dutch Boy paint kid. The candle-lit
piano bar did not disguise her aging
skin or sallow complexion. Her
consistency in appearance was
remarkable.
This story may be read in its entirety
upon publication. ETA 2009
lounge at 9:00 PM sharp and Bill the
piano player keyed the first few bars of
“Miss America” as he did every night
upon her entrance.
She looked the same as always, an old
green sequined blouse hung off her
rounded, stooped shoulders. Her skirt
was an ankle length gold lame, but the
gold had worn in spots and was
threadbare around her curvier areas.
Her lipstick line went far beyond her
natural lip, her apple doll cheeks had
thick pink circles of rouge, and where
her real eyebrows should have been
were two hand drawn crescents that did
not match each other or the shape of
her face. Her thin bleach blond-yellow
hair cupped her puffy face like the old,
Dutch Boy paint kid. The candle-lit
piano bar did not disguise her aging
skin or sallow complexion. Her
consistency in appearance was
remarkable.
This story may be read in its entirety
upon publication. ETA 2009
© 2007-2008 Katie Wigington
| KatieWigingtonWrites.com |
A place for my thoughts to live
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