Mariana “Mari” Ni twirled a lock of her fading red highlights, her glinty, deep carmine nails shooting off light in all directions as the real-estate agent blah-blah-blahed on and on about the paperwork she’d need to fill out. Mari just kept smiling and nodding, smiling and nodding, as her attention drifted off to what felt like the other half of the planet. She sat leaning strongly to the right, her elbows supporting her and her sharp jaw ensconced firmly in the palm of one hand. As soon as she detected a break in the agent’s word-vomit, she got up, quick and agile, like a big cat, smiling her most charming, glossiest, and fakest lollipop smile as she wrist-flicked her phone open in one fluid motion.
“Sorry, excuse me. I think I need to make a quiiick phone call.”
She scooted out of the room, as quickly as anyone can manage when they’re wearing blazing red 4-inch pumps.
To tell you the truth, she kind of died a little inside when she saw the house. As soon as the door closed she slapped her phone shut and sighed. She was moving into a dump—a dump with dumpy neighbors and a dumpy yard growing pitiful, dumpy weeds in a heavy, dumpy atmosphere. She winced. Times weren’t good. With the economy splatting its guts all over the place, the country’s stockbrokers started freakin’ out.
She needed a break—needed to get away from the cutthroat world of unpredictable business and enjoy some nice weather in a place that was close-by and affordable. But who knew? Nice weather doesn’t mean everything else isn’t dumpy.
oh my goodness, normally i do not approve of using the same word multiple times but here it works. :) also, the blazing 4-inch pumps. that made me giggle.
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