«*1at place prose**
She doesn't bite her fingernails anymore
I stared at her bands as we talked. I observed tbe baby fat gone from ber suddenly slender fingers. Beautiful, silver rings perobed elegantly,
and sbe twisted tbem as we
teOked. Superficially. Of shopping,
and boys, and movies,
and old times, steering around tbe deep gap digging itself
between
us,
away from tbe new lives weve botb begun apart
from tbe world we oaoupied onoe together. Her fingers
strummed tbe table top in an irregular rhythm, punotuating a slight silent space, and 1 noticed the blood red polish
carefully applied. She glanced at her watch and smoothed
ber hair. Times up. We both smiled and stood to go. It was nice that we could lunch together! 'See you in another day or twol I watched as she left and realised she doesdb bite
her fingernails anymore.
--Angela Peach