Pink. (Photo credit: sometimes rains in JUN)
My eyelid has developed a tic. I rest my head on my hand in an attempt to stop it and flash a forced smile across the table at Felicia. She continues her monologue with accompanying noisy, sticky chews on her chewing gum. I eat a chip and as the salt spreads through my mouth and my foot taps the floor silently, I recall the conversation I had with my cousin earlier.
‘It’ll be fun,’ she said, ‘just show her around town,’ she said, ‘you’ve been single for rather long,’ she said.
A lump of pink between Felicia’s teeth. Also, she asked me to be nice. I take a deep breath.
‘Felicia’s been through a lot,’ she told me and I really do not want to make it any worse for her. There is a particularly wet chew from Felicia.
‘Just spit it out, for Christ’s sake!’
A Bolg? 