The vinyl girl and me

I'm here waiting for my turn for the eye doc. Sitting next to me is a girl with cranberry red hairs. I didn't said cherry cause I want to be specific. Her hairs are so attention caching that I can ignore that 12 year old w***e Robert de nero was chasing from my favorite Martin Scorsese cinema playing in my phone but I cannot look away from those perfect red hair. It feels like blood burst out of the head and it clotted in the end of her hair. More annoying thing about her was her white. She was that kind of white that the god must have used to colour his angels and wives q. So white that her cheeks are mapping all her nerves. Epitome of unfairness is that with already such perfection god presented her the body a woman should owe. Fuller where it should be and lesser where it shouldn't be. I mean the piece of yellow clothe she has draped is looking like a dior dress. But I saw that dress in the weekly market near my house. Damn it god? Who gave you such artistic skills man? I don't like woman with such perfection.. It was her chance two persons after me. I stared at her for an long as I remember. Thinking to myself how much pleasure does a person looking at her everyday must emjoy. With a loud noisy beep they broke the song I was making in my head looking at that wonderful delight. I was next. Passing through the door to the chamber I faced a mirror. Within a moment I crashed back to reality and left a piece of my heart there