She grabbed the end of the skirt and exclaimed “This is really pretty indeed”, whispering as she folded the hem and noticing the loose stitches in the inside.
She was waiting for him to get ready, lingering her eyes on some knickknacks around – porcelain elephants, old grocery tickets, pens from work.
By the time he came back with a different shirt on, he noticed the shelves being much tidier.
They were sitting next to each other and both staring the screen of her phone: and now that he got closer to her, he noticed clumps of a yellowish glue at the base of her eyelashes.
Not satisfied of what she had seen, still she closed the mirror door and left the bedroom.
Looking at him, she was not quite sure he’d still think sometimes about the years they spent together.
Her tiny fingertip painted in glossy nail polish, scratched at the top after having pushed his cousin Kevin on the seesaw for the whole afternoon.
“Sit down, have some juice”
The satin shirt of her mother rolled up to the elbows when cutting turkey breast, revealing a modern watch and a tiny butterfly inked on her wrist, dating back to when she was old enough to get drunk, but not enough to get a tattooist working on her without her parents’ consent.
She was struggling to grasp the straw with her mouth only, without making use of her hands.
“A…C…Ace” repeated the kid.
“What’s cool, dear?” joked her mum.
The kid ignored that word she didn’t know, focusing on the sequence of letters she was following with her index on the bottle of juice.
Every other letter. Her face wrinkled in a smile of pride.
That was it!
She could not wait to share that exciting discovery with her mum and her cousin Kevin.
“No, here! Here Bobby, here!”
The young girl was pointing at the bowl in vain, as the dog seemed not to see or smell the juicy beef chunks she had cooked to him with care.