“Breath, makeup, hair,” Emma announced as she flipped out a pocket mirror.
Mini Altoids were passed, lipstick freshened.
Four pairs of shoes were slipped onto four pairs of feet.
And Parker finally hung up the phone.
Vision in White
____________________
(up with it girl)
(rock with it girl)
(show dem it girl)
(bounce with it girl)
(dance with it girl)
(get with it girl)
Come on, come on, turn the radio on
It's Friday night and it won't be long
Gotta do my hair, put my makeup on
It's Friday night and it won't be long
____________________
At two A.M. Mac crawled back into the limo, and sprawled.
“I came to have fun with my best
pals in the land, and said mission was accomplished. God, do we have any water in here?”
Laurel passed her a bottle, then groaned.
“My feet. My feet are screaming like voices of the damned.”
“I had the best time.” Emma slid onto the limo’s side bench and pillowed her head on her hands. “We should
do this once a month.”
Parker yawned, but tapped her purse.
“I have two new contacts for vendors, and a potential client.”
And so, Mac thought as the limo streamed north, we each define ourselves.
She toed off her now very painful
shoes, shut her eyes, and slept the rest of the way home.
Vision in White