It was Valentines Day and she
looked fantastic. She was wearing red
lipstick—well it was more of a pinkish fuchsia because it was the cheapest tube
she could find at Wal-Mart and she was not a wealthy woman. She was thrifty.
The kind of thrifty that people noticed and admired and wanted to be around
because it was so refreshing.
Her socks matched her shoelaces and
her toenail polish matched her scarf. She only wished someone would see her
toenail polish tonight. Every year on February 13 she painted her toenails and
every year they went unappreciated. She hoped this year would be different.
She hoped this would be the year that she and some lucky man would walk along
the beach in their bare feet even though it was cold. She would remove her shoes, and he would comment on how her socks were so delightfully coordinated with her
shoelaces.Then with a blush she would remove her socks so her toenail
polish would appear and he would just smile because it takes a really special
kind of woman to match her neckwear to her toes.
She took a deep breath and stepped
out her front door. She breathed in the invigoratingly chilly air and smiled
contentedly. For she knew her toenails were painted even if no one else did.
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