Nail Party
They sit quietly, their hands spread out flat. The mother faces them, pursing the lips someone said were just like Grace Kelly’s. She studies the oldest, then the colors lined up on the table. Her hand hovers. She chooses an iridescent coral. The girl shivers in anticipation. The mother unscrews the bottle and releases the smell of love.They wipe their own tears, hide their scraped knees. They hold each other when night terrors wake them. They watch her, waiting for her brow to soften, for her to say, “Oh dear, what are we going to do about those nails.”
Photo Credit: Lili Vieira de Carvalho
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