Onto the side of her face, fried chicken grease — placed there importantly, but not intentionally. It was not often that she ate fast food, she was aware of the grease but chose to tolerate it. This sort of meal shouldn’t be a lifestyle. Just a treat, here and there.

Her fingers glistened and she was intermittently curious as to what led her here to the mall food court. It is so obvious now, that she is uncomfortable to be greasy like this. If she could eat fast food without her fingers glistening, this would be an improvement. Anyways, one last time she moved her mouth towards her glistening fingers and finger tips and nails and thumbs and for a short moment felt the pleasure of sweet, salty and savory, as she sucked them all dry.

Grabbing a napkin from a short stack on the table tray using the tips of her fingers, her pinky outstretched, she kept everything very proper and like, cute. She dabbed at her mouth, leaving the grease glistening on her cheek untouched. Then, carefully she removed the residue from the inside bends of the fingers on her right hand. While still gripping the napkin with her left, she completed a ‘crush and wipe’: the napkin absorbing grease, gravy and ketchup from the inside palm; the napkin compressed into a boulder shape in the process. Without pause she then dropped the dirty rolled up napkin unceremoniously onto the table, got up and left. Her tray sitting in the middle of the table in a massacred scene, it awaited someone else to discover.