Split Ends
She came back a few minutes later, wobbling along in a pair of transparent plastic slides with high platforms and tall spike heels. Automatically, she checked myself in the hallway mirror. She looked good. She liked the way her bare midriff showed off her cute navel stone.
She frowned for a moment. Was this the right outfit for grocery shopping? Something seemed not quite right, but with her thoughts still flowing like cold molasses she couldn't put her finger on it.
She studied the shapely Asian in the mirror. The shiny blue bra top and tight, lycra mini flattered her slender figure, and her legs were pure dynamite in the shiny nylons and six-inch platform heels. Maybe she just needed to freshen her make-up a little.
She pulled out her purse and added a fresh layer of candy red lipstick. She combed her long hair a few times to make sure it was still perfect. She hated split ends. Then she made her careful way out of her flat and down the elevator to the parking garage.
Suzanne's faithful Volvo was parked in its usual spot. Even here though, there were details that didn't fit. There was a big dent in the front right fender that she didn't remember. Inside, she was surprised to see beer cans and scraps of clothing on the floor. The radio, which she kept tuned to an all-news station, began playing abrasive hard rock when she turned on the ignition. The volume was turned up loud.
Suzanne shrugged. She decided to listen to something different2