My eyes would close and there would be the image of you, so beautiful and that inviting look on your face. God I almost pursed my lips to kiss you. �...Sir, Sir do you want a drink?” I am brought back to reality by the attendant with the drinks trolly. I look up and she is staring down at me with a quizzical look on her face. Oh please tell me I didn't purse my lips, she must think I am some kind of weirdo. “Can I get a cola?” I stammer trying to regain my composure. She leans across and smiles as. After about two hours in the beauty parlor, I was finished. I stood up,looked at myself in the mirror, and gasped out loud, "Oh my god, is thatme?" "Its perfect, I look like a street whore!" She responded, "that iswhat you wanted wasn't it?" I shot back, "yes, but this is so wild, but,I love it." The last thing she did before ushering me over to the cashregister was to hand me the tube of lipstick saying with a smile, "Youwill need this to retouch your lips after each encounter with with. I slowly walked away and went down stairs. I went down and opened the front door and slammed it shut, to make it sound like I just had come home. The next day it was Saturday, I was playing on going out with some friends but Amanda stopped me and said I had to stay home had help her go grocery shopping. On the way back from the grocery store, “Did you come home early yesterday from school?” “No” I said hoping she didn’t know I saw her. “Are you sure you didn’t come home early because I. He took a seat at his desk then, thoughts of her and her spite amassing in clumps of spurned acrimony clawed at him, at his heart and at the seat of his stomach. Cruelty interlocked within that girl’s luxuriantly violet eyes meant worlds of trouble for him every time they flashed him a code red. He was not very much in the mood for a code red this day, week, moon or year. The quill and jar of ink gathered, he dipped the quill, almost serendipitously into the pot and began to scratch a message.