Member-only story
Clover
Part II: The sorta pink lipstick
Mama’s got this sorta pink lipstick — it’s the color of a burnt storm-sky and it falls outta her clutch while she’s packing up the last box before we move to Hopeulikit, Georgia. I’m going to miss Summerville. All my friends are here and I really like my school.
Benny, the super sweet Filipino boy next door, is my best friend. We exchanged addresses. We’re gonna be pen pals! He’s learning calligraphy and I can’t wait to read letters from him. I’m both excited and sad about this.
I don’t know what to call this feeling.
I bend down to pick up Mama’s lipstick and for a moment, I want to flip the top off and run it over my lips but I am hesitant. She watches me from the corners of her eyes.
“Clover, that’s not a toy. Put it back in that bag and finish sweeping the foyer.”
I listen. Briefly, I imagine running that smooth color over my lips — that I’m the Queen of the Island of The Forgotten, and everyone must obey my commands. I wear a pink tiara, a pink robe, and clear, royal slippers. My jester’s name is “Prim” and he keeps me doubled over with laughter. I pat the butt of the lipstick and store it back in Mama’s clutch.
The sun peeks through our front door. The stained-glass panels reflect such…
