Sara’s freshly painted nails glittered with a bashful primness that made her spread her toes and wiggle them — almost too proudly. Her spine ached like rusted joints without grease from being bent over her knees for so long. But the pain was worth it. She hadn’t done anything nice for herself in such a long while, especially something that pulled her memories back to the days spent in her mother’s salon that had always reeked of acetone. And as pungent as that smell had been, it had calmed her then and still did now. Almost as much as the decadent aroma of hot chocolate just before bed.
It was a bit funny, the sort of strange things the mind attached with good feelings. Sometimes she’d even uncap a bottle of nail polish remover and let the scent permeate her bedroom like incense. But that was her own little idiosyncrasy and perhaps she wasn’t the only one like this. After all, the world was made up of so many people whom shared uncanny similarities. It was just that she hadn’t yet found anyone who shared hers — not that she’d tell anyone about it. Because, in retrospect, it was a little embarrassing.
***
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t think of a title for this story. And this is random but, thank you everyone for reading and sharing my writing journey with me. I think I’m a lot blessed to be followed by so many writers whom I admire. It makes me so happy to be part of the writing community ✨
Nomad Writer 
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