Perfect mirrors those eyes, staring me down. Her nose twitched: sensitive. (Had I overdone the baby powder? How was I to know?)
Sideling along the counter I cursed the Bakers beneath my breath, thinking thinking what to do.
What action to take.
And those gleaming eyes followed me all the while.
I sneezed once. Twice.
Crazy ass Bakers…
Everyone else dropped by a plate of cookies, a box of chocolates, stale banana bread…
But oh no they had to be different. Memorable.
“We call her Ms. Fuzzyboots” they’d said, “just perfect for you!”
“And aren’t her eyes ever so interesting.”