It all starts with a blank page. Fingers splayed and slightly bent at the end points. Red curtain sways with the light breeze fogging windows sashed and framed. She pulls on the cigarette locked between lips painted a deep purple. No, a blood red. Or a hot pink. An emerald green. A soft rouge. Yes, a soft rouge. Lips painted a soft rose pulls and tugs on the end of a white stick that burns and smokes with each breath. The music, it pounds through the speaker bolted to the wall. It’s a thumping, pounding drumming sound that encourages feet tapping, head bobbing and a long stream of smoke billowing past parted lips as the head tilts gently backward. The smoke, it curls soft tendrils up to the ceiling. “Now you try,” she whispers.
Created: Feb 09, 2011magnolia Document Media