She was shrunken, like a butternut squash left too long in the sun and then topped with a wig.
She was impossibly alive, like a fairy or a ferret, her nose and smile broad, and her hands in constant motion.
The nurse leaned forward and wiped the woman’s chin. The woman pushed the nurse away and then pinched forefinger and thumb together and raised them to her lips. “No,” said the nurse in a flat American accent, “you cannot have a cigarette.”
So I whispered to the nurse, “I’m sorry, but is that Bette Davis?”
She said only, “Suck my toes?”
Thank you, Joe! If you’ve got a bio and/or links to your work, please send them to us via Dennis by clicking here.
An astonishing story.
