she stood in front of the bonne bell display unable to make a choice.
twenty feet to her right and twenty feet to her left were nothing but choices of color for her to choose from. reds. blues. greens. plums. wines. the list was endless. every shade known to man was available to her to pick from and she couldn’t make a decision. she didn’t know what to do.

she had threatened to buy pink frosted lipstick because she wanted not to be herself. she was tired of buying dark colors and being called “gawth.”

pink frosted lipstick no longer existed it seemed. you could choose from various perles and light frothy combinations but no pink frosted lipstick. she then decided she wanted hooker red but she remembered that she couldn’t wear hooker red because of her skin tone. she was pale but not pale enough to carry it off properly and not dark enough to wear it either.

she realized this was a metaphor for her life.

she purchased a few imitation chubby sticks in various plum hues and one in light pink. maybe she could pull it off for a minute. if she could —

she would be happy.