I’d meant to leave a small reminder.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Harold murmured.
“Then keep your hair to yourself.”
“At my age, that’s not difficult.”
Brittany sat up.
“Then keep your hair to yourself.”
The boy across the aisle saw it first.
“Mom! Look!”
“Don’t stare.”
“But there’s something in her hair!”
“What? What are you all looking at?”
Nobody answered. The boy had both hands over his mouth.
“What are you all looking at?”
She flipped her phone around to use it as a
mirror.
The stream was still live, so eleven hundred people got the view with her.
Pink. Glittering. Sitting on her shoulder.
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
She poked it. Her finger came away connected to it by a thread.
“IS THAT SLIME?!”
“IS THAT SLIME?!”
“Slime, sweetheart. It was meant for my granddaughter. You’re an early adopter.”