Survival of the Fittest
“But the face was the same, narrow and pale. The same black eyeliner. In real life, less Kabuki than bone china. Clean, balanced features, the nose small and straight, the lips narrow but full, glossed pink. Prettier than in the photo.The kind of guileless, all-American face favored by casting directors for detergent commercials.Sally Branch had said she was small but that was an understatement. Maybe five feet, no more than ninety pounds, she was a child-woman with small, sharp breasts and thin but supple-looking arms exposed by a sleeveless pink polyester top.Tight black jeans covered trim hips. Tiny waist. Proportionately long legs for someone so small.She wore black plastic earrings and pink high-heeled sandals with clear plastic bows on the instep.Even with the lift, she was tiny. Twenty-eight years old but she could have passed for a college sophomore.Hips-swiveling walk. Black, pink, black, pink.Both of us in costume?Hers appeared to be fifties retro. Nostalgia for the good old ...days when men were men and women were women and defectives knew their place?She’d assembled herself to attract attention, might very well be looking for stares.MoreLess
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