Shark Smile

“My ex is worse than your ex. Your ex is bad.”

Fluff brushed scarlet waves down to her nipples, she chuckles. She doesn’t giggle. She’s not flirting with me. She’s not a fantasy girl. She’s not a child. She’s a woman, a chuckle.

I have no idea if she has split ends because I’m not going to stare at her nipples. Who asked? Me. No one else but me. Over and over in my head. And that’s precisely why I can never grow my hair past my nipples. Split ends, OCD and ADHD.

And of course I’m going to look at her nipples but, not for the amount of time it takes to focus on the ends of her red strands of hair.

She agrees, “My ex is bad. He wouldn’t even leave Saudi to see our son in Cedars because he didn’t want to get pulled into U.S. customs for tax evasion.” She rolls her eyes to the left and sips from her glass.