A girl trapped in a woman's body.
A baby doll in high heels and lipstick the colour of Cabernet.
If only she could trade in her cigarettes for a big, cherry, lollipop.
But the billowy, black smoke can not fill her lungs fast enough.
A delusion of an illusion of perfection reeks havoc in her mind.
Or maybe that was just the vodka tonic.
Or the gin rocks.
Sweeter than the sugar rim of her martini, she smiles, she woos, she waves.
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