‘Double trouble’, they called us. If I was ‘Double’ on account of my size, then Lexie was definitely ‘Trouble’.
She’d always led, sashaying past the bar, eyes like headlights on full beam, lashes batting like hummingbird wings. Her backside swayed – a hypnotic pendulum in zebra print leggings.
We never paid for a drink – ever.
Today she wore those same leggings, the same spike heels. But now the tarantula lashes look too heavy for her lids. The headlight eyes have clicked off.
I didn’t say ‘Hi’. She didn’t look up from rolling her cigarette.
I fled that car wreck life. I worry nothing will save Lexie from a tragic Last Act.
Hello my lovelies. This was my lastest Micro Bookends entry (Double/ Act – photo of a scrap yard) and this was the result. A salutary tale on continuing the follies of youth way into adulthood – you know who you are! Pleased to say, I was given an honourary mention – nice one.