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That smile faded fast as she dared to shy away, backing from it like she did the memory, letting it fade away. Turning her back the sofa confronted her, a memory of books and lazy touches, then the laughter…his children watching a movie, she could almost smell the burned pop corn in the air, the aroma so real it burned her eyes. The corduroy of the couch brushed at her fingers, heating them as she rubbed her hand this way and that. She paused, nibbling her bottom lip, feeling the bite of her own teeth sink into flesh. She could feel the time ticking down, getting closer and closer… A loud honk made her jump, nearly catching the scream in her throat, somehow she made it to the door and opened it. She stared, blinked, and stared more, the man blinked back, ‘Order a taxi miss?’ Forcing a nod, the words left her easily enough, ‘Yes, one minute.’ ‘Uh, shall I take your bags in the mean time?’ His voice caused her to pause, she looked at his weathered face and bright eyes, ‘Oh..uh..good. She seemed to give herself a shake, and then nearly pushed me over in her hurry to distance herself from the two men.We ran back around the corner. She stopped and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. I hugged her, uncertain why she had responded so dramatically. I had felt ashamed, but it wasn't my fault, so I knew that it was no big deal. I tried to draw Celeste out about her reaction, but she brushed me off. I wrote an entry in my journal, which I rarely did about what we did when alone together.Nothing seemed to come of it and as the weeks went by I gave it less and less thought.We had learned obedience quite well by then; I had not been seriously disciplined for three weeks by the time that the next major change in our routine came about.I was sitting at my vanity, wondering whether I should use a coral-pink lipstick today or maybe a more vivid shade, something like the crimson I had seen Shania Twain wearing in that Revlon ad. None of us wore much makeup....
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