He backed away from the shower stream until it was hitting his chest and allowed the shampoo lather to slide down his forehead. His eyelids were shut tightly.

This was his idea: To allow the suds to settle in his eyelashes.

“Is that white gunk still in your eyelashes?” Anne asked as they sat down for lunch at the diner.

“It might be dried shampoo,” he said.

“Are you not rinsing your face in the shower?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Kurt enjoyed the newfound ability to detect confusion on his wife’s face without the help of contact lenses or glasses. He could see her sandy hair poof just a bit in the back, a hint of teeth between thin, maroon lips and rounded chin. Lint on the black, wood coat. Strands of fabric reaching from the black and white checkered scarf. A melted snowflake on her silky, lime-green collar.

“Why are you staring at my neck?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“I see a line where your makeup ends,” he answered.

“That’s fantastic,” she said with a smirk. “I’m happy you’re using your new powers for good.” More »