'Stained Lips' by Jan Elman Stout

She dabs her lips with Faithful Fawn. He hovers behind, runs his fingers through his graying hair, eyes fixed on his reflection. How do I look? Her mouth forms a perfect “O,” presses shut. Handsome. He points. When you move your mouth that way you look like a fish. Her mind recedes light-years to their rehearsal dinner. The baby photos her mother had blown up. Adorable, she’d said when she saw his. Your forehead’s so high, he’d responded. She drops her stained tissue in the toilet. Flushes. What’s that lipcolor? he says. Fawn, she answers, and flashes her broad smile.

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First published in 100 Word Story on 23 January 2019.