Chapter 25
A hot bath. Ila Perkins could just soak away her troubles. She pulled the edge of her terrycloth robe over the palm of her hand and cleared the bathroom vanity mirror of fog.
Baths had worked in the past, the hotter the better. Just let those old blues melt away. Ila looked at herself in the mirror, revealing her worried face. Her close-cropped gray hair lay mashed to her skull and her scalp peeked through. Four years of wearing a wig hadn’t done much to give her hair fullness and shine, but now that she had started the habit, she couldn’t go back. When did I get so old? Ila wondered, studying at the bags under her eyes.
An unfiltered Camel burned in an ashtray on the back of the toilet. Ila lifted it, watching herself in the mirror as she smoked. It was a hard life, she thou
