Sheepa was her name. She lived a very boring life but she was hot as fuck!!
She wakes up at 6am and leaves her place at 9am after two and a half hours of colour co-ordination debate. She gets into a taxi and plugs her earphones in for the soothing sounds of sheeba, yes, sheeba!
Sheepa always looks well put together, so well, it’s very hard to glimpse at her rotting self. She gets to skool, and, as soon as her rotten feet touch the ground, complements gush in from all those that want a piece of that pink rotting flesh. Complements, that don’t mean jack to her.
Still, she says ‘thank you’ casually to each of those imbeciles with her famous plastic smile; one which took her years to perfect. The kind of smile politicians are born with; a smile neatly curved to hide all the gross perfect imperfections from those that think they matter.
Strutting on, she hopes and prays within, hoplessly hoping that nothing artificial falls off her rotting body for all to see.
I took some of these around the compound at home and some at the Bahai temple.