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Summary
Trixie says more as she holds bottles, trinkets, hairbrushes, and jewelry. Katya catches but bits and pieces of her presentation as the drunkenness begins to sink in fully, Trixie's everything lulling her into serenity. The saleswoman alternates between the other products and the perfumes, spritzing up Katya's arm with different scents everytime that she nods dumbly.
She spritzes her neck once they run out of space. Katya wobbles back in forth in her seat, listening to the radio in the kitchen playing the same kind of jazz from this morning. With her eyes closed, she feels like she's dancing.
“Tell me how it smells, Trixie.”
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unfinished but really good
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