Powder first, Gloss later.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Our heroine is racking up sales and sometimes gets more than she bargained for.

Powder first, Gloss later. This was the routine. She was gonna get a sale. Randy had pretty much done most of the footwork. Thank God because touring this ancient place, in heels was going to kill her old feet. Sometimes you eat the burrito at both ends and that is a stupid mistake because it makes a mess. Powder first, gloss later. Frank, her late husband had watched her repeat this, many times. That’s how she got his attention eventually winning him over. That’s whom the old place belonged to; it was all he had left her. Stingy old bastard! After she had performed so diligently her wifely duties and the sucker had messed up her lips more than once. Pop! Slamming on the brakes of the 56 Bel Air because she saw who was sitting, waiting in the driveway. Powder first, gloss later. At first, she had been a little shaky with her outline but had gotten the bow just right, eventually. A big city guy, he had said Stepson or not, a gal needed to know these things. Whose beige car was Real Estate Randy walking towards? Randy! She was supposed to be meeting this client alone. There were no other cars on the driveway. Using the side mirror of her ex’s Ford Focus to smudge her gloss waving slightly to Rhonda his new wife, while shaking her blonde tendrils.

Powder first, gloss later. Looking into the rearview mirror of her baby blue Bel Air, she had just consolidated what was a glossy deal as she smacked her lips. A large-bellied man in a brown three-piece suit had written large checks before for dinner. The Walrus and her were going out later, for a snack. Rhonda and Randy had taken their cut from her bequeathed gift, hardly a fucking mansion. Fancy catching a walrus with a wallet who was in search of a plantation home that had once belonged to his family. It was tired-looking and she, sure as hell was sick of looking at its huge porch and five bathrooms. Who needs five bathrooms anyways? Looking in the mirror one last time the before starting the engine, Randy caught her attention. “Hey Lorraine, you are flat”. Banging his hand on the side of his car door, Rhonda grinned from ear to ear before they sped off. God Damn it! And the Walrus was nowhere to be found.


Submitted: October 10, 2022

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