#28. 01.28.12 Pedicuris Interruptus

In the middle of my pedicure, I got a text that my trip to the UK, which had been abruptly topsy-turvyed on Friday by Finch’s possible need to stay in Surinam longer than expected, was in fact back on.  As I went into a head-flurry of what I would need to pack after all, the fire alarm in the building began to shriek.  We all sat, feet bubbling in the water, nails being filed, ignoring the piercing wail and our twitching nervous systems, as firefighters ran back and forth in front of the building.

My toenails are the red of my late grandmother’s lipstick.


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