an excerpt from my story in progress. title unknown at the moment.

"sidesteps into the mirror, applies her wine colored lipstick and walks out the door. Behind the laurel bushes awaits her homegirl who looks real fine and firme with her canela brown skin glaring through the windows of her car. It's a 1971 monte carlo, custom green paint, no power steering type of beauty. Inside, the seats are leather, the stereo granite like and vintage, playing chalino ballads, summer night oldies and sometimes 94.3. They don't have a destination and they never seem to need one. The west fresno grape fields always tells them where to go. They're on Belmont avenue, past the zoo near the roundabout of altares and old souls driving toward the center of town. There is silence but she doesn't mind it, she likes the sound of wind howling in her face on a one hundred degree day..."