m&ms487

I could use an honest opinion and some feedback. I'm submitting this for a scholarship in a few days and have driven myself crazy with tweaking every little detail.
Thanks,
Michelle



A Night Out

She began preparations in the sunny afternoon, considering her pores in natural light. Covering, clogging them with her make-up as the light dimmed, and the fluorescent lights casted unnatural shadows around the room. She hummed a joyful tune while applying white shadow under the arch of her brows to highlight them. Concealer was dabbed under her lashes to hide the bags created from a previously long night. The hair was teased, relaxed, curled, and twisted into submission by long fingers stained yellow. A glance in the mirror assured time well spent.

She strode out the door by the light of the moon, subtly wavering in each step. She rode to the party in the darkness of a promising night, her face shining with possibility. She rolled down the window and breathed in the cold, harsh air. She lit her cigarette and gratefully inhaled equal parts smoke and icy air. Nicotine surged to her brain as the street lights raced by, caressing her face in a steady rhythm.

Arriving, entering, and swaying under the light of a miniature disco ball, the night climaxed around her. The hair had given up hope and the concealer went on strike. She stumbled around the room and became a victim of vulgar insults she no longer could comprehend. She laughed if off with a wide-mouthed grin and another cigarette. She fell out the way she had entered and took up transitory residence in the leafless skeleton of a bush. Later, he saw her by the flicker of his flame and the glow of his non-filtered cigarette.

The body was cold to the touch, but a slight groan assured an inhabitant. She entered once again, not on her own accord, to a stiller house. He carried her down the flight of stairs to his bedroom, basking in the warm glow of candle light. He left her there, in darkness, and slept in the other room.

She was revealed by the new sun, filtered through a topaz curtain, that cast a long shadow with deep valleys of lifeless-blue heliotrope.

You almost always pick the best times to drop the worst lines..