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| Untitled (Lipstick) by Jo Baer |
It has been a year since David, the husband of a friend, died suddenly of cancer at 35, and I keep remembering the last time I saw him alive, at a party in a Mexican restaurant, and how he offered me a taste of his wine margarita and I said, blushing, that I did not want to leave lipstick on his glass, but he told me that I shouldn’t worry, he was used to lipstick on his glass, so I accepted his drink, took a sour, icy sip from it, and then handed it back to him, that tall outspoken man, with a dark intensity, who is now dead.
by Nina Zolotow
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