Fat woman, blazing abalone earrings and thick coral lipstick, a vision of indulgence in seafood, sweeps bubbling into the office like the tide, lands her purse thud on the desk like a full fishbasket, and yells, "This is the Colonial Inn, right?" No. If she'd been smaller I'd have felt I was throwing her back in.
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© 2002-2013 Mark Phillips.
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This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.