It was the mouth that struck a chord. Everything else about her, the rouge on her cheeks, the long brown hair, the dark-tanned skin, was common enough, especially in South Florida. But the mouth? That was special. Giant and audacious. Glorious and monstrous. A mere instrument, a maestro, a mauve-lipsticked Chopin that seemed to hold all the answers to all the questions in the universe. Just a glimpse of that glistening smacker told me I was in the... More >>>