Pain is Beauty

With her weight rolled up onto her toes, Layla leaned into the edge of the counter. Her hip bones caught on the 90 degree angle, her body folded at the hips at an angle nearly as sharp. The only way to get near enough to really see what she was doing. The delicate work of eyebrow plucking; forever complicated by the fact she could never help but blink with each stinging tug. Left-side, right-side, back again. She took a step back for better perspective every few strokes of the tweezers in order to gauge whether they were even. Never quite satisfied by the end product, but it was better than waxing.

<< back to top

Take it Off

Drunk. It had all hit Layla at once in the backseat of the cab on the way home. She had been stone cold sober at the bar. No matter how many shots she threw back. It had been an expensive and disappointing evening up until now. Not that now was when she wanted to feel drunk. Really, it defeated the whole purpose of drinking in the first place. A whole night spent anxious and uncomfortable because her mind had been relentless. Now she could feel it coming; that thing that happened when the alcohol flooded in and floated whatever part of her inner-ear prevented vertigo. Layla fell out of the car more than she stepped, the street teetering under her feet as she tried to find her balance. The stumble up the stairs marred by a few desperate grabs for the hand rail to prevent herself from toppling backwards, down the way she had come from. At least the invading intoxication dulled fear into humor. Finally, she made it to the bathroom, turning cold water on full blast to get to scrubbing.

<< back to top

Lotions & Potions

Layla had been looking forward to poker night. The last time around had turned out to be fun--even if she maybe ruined Charlie's poker table (even if he said it was fine). With the evening ahead on her mind, the end of the semester work was damn near impossible to focus on. At least, that's what she would blame it on today. Still in denial when it came to the reality of it all: that the majority of her credits for the semester were already out of reach. That futility wasn't the reason she had no attention span; she was just excited. So excited that the process of getting dressed had started early. Showered with an outfit picked and it wasn't even yet 4 o'clock. Maybe it was for the best really. A glance at the mirror revealed that the weather was reeking havoc with her hair. With a hefty sigh, she reached just above her head to grab the wooden box off the top of the over-the-toilet, spacesaving shelving that always wobbled when she so much as breathed anywhere near it. From there, she descended to the cool tile floor, digging through the various bottles, tubes and pots to find the remedy of the day.

<< back to top

Stickers

The day had been slow to start and had never really picked up the pace from there. 6:00 PM simultaneously felt like noon and midnight. Hungry, vaguely tired, and bored. Too late for a nap and too early for bed. Layla made her way into the kitchen first, gazing into the abyss of her mostly barren cupboards and wrinkling her nose at the unappealing left overs in the fridge. Food was apparently not the answer. She wandered from there back to the living room, pulling out the antique tin box from beneath her coffee table to peer inside it next. Barel a bowlpack left in the ziploc bag within, the keif catcher in her grinder bare. Did she want to go to the dispensary? That would require pants . . . and finding her ID. With a frown, she stood up again, pacing in a massive loop around the apartment because it was less boring than sitting while doing nothing. It was when she lifted her fingers to engage in the nervous habit of sucking on her nails that she noted they were chipped and generally raggedy. Something to do! She made a dash for the bathroom, digging into the brightly colored translucent container that held her various nail decals. A manicure could always kill an hour.

<< back to top