You make me wanna get up and scream

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The vixen nudges the kits to the back of the den. The three survivors yip and jostle for the best spot. From her spot near the mouth of the burrow, she opens her jaws and snaps them shut quickly. The kits quiet and tuck their pointed noses into folds of downy fox fur, ears twitching. The smallest one yawns then closes his eyes.

With a last glance over her shoulder at the sleeping pups, the vixen scrambles out of the hole into the mossy damp of the late May evening. The air tastes of the fresh earth of the plowed field and the honeysuckle climbing over the fence. The vixen skims under the fence on her trek into the woods where she's had luck lately catching mice.

Beyond the great rotting body of the ancient white oak, the grass moves. The vixen freezes, her eyes keen, her ears trained forward until she picks up the telltale sounds of rustling. Faster than the human eye can process it, her muscles contract pulling her close to the ground and she launches high into the air.

Once in the air, she sees her target. A small snake. Too late to halt her landing, the vixen sees the glint of metal reflecting the glowering red of sunset. The snap is quick and fierce, the teeth grind into her hind leg.

*************************************

"Are you ready?" The young woman smiles. Wearing a lavender uniform, she stands next to the tray.

Sinopa nods. The tip of her tongue traces her lips and she tastes the Chanel Kensington she applied before she left the office. He crosses her mind. What was it he'd said about that shade of lip color? Oh, yes.

She blushes.

The young woman steps closer to the table as she tugs on a pair of latex gloves and Sinopa settles back onto the futon-like chaise. She notes the young woman's name in a clean, simple font on the white name tag. Diana.

Diana moves the sheet covering Sinopa's lower body. "This is maintenance?" She asks.

Sinopa lets her eyes rest on the smooth eggshell wall and concentrates on her breathing. "Yes. And one of those - oh, what are they called?"

Diana cranes her slender neck to look at the form the receptionist handed her in the lobby. "Ah, yes. The Foxy Bikini. Have you chosen a color?" She lifts the lid off a jar and begins stirring the contents with a wooden tongue depressor.

"I'm hoping to get something that will match my lip color." Sinopa props herself up on her elbows.

Diana pauses mid-stir and furrows her brow. The two women regard each other in confusion until Sinopa lets out a sharp laugh.

"I mean my lipstick!"

Diana exhales. Her breath smells of the cinnamon gum she has tucked between her cheek and teeth. "Oh my god, I thought - " she places the jar on the tray suppressing her embarrassed laughter. "I'm sure we can find something close to that." She moves to the end of the bed. "Okay, please pull your knees to your chest."

Sinopa concentrates once again on her breathing as Diana silently spreads the wax. She bites her lip and winces as Diana pulls the strip of fabric away from her body. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, thinks of him. He raved about the Swarovski jewels. He's going to love the Foxy Bikini.

"Are they really made of fur?" she asks spying a chip in her French manicure that's wrapped around her knee.

Diana's gloved fingers pull her open so she can a closer look at her work. "Mmmmhmmmm. Fox fur."


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