Radium Girl
On her wedding day, Imogen glowed.
We had given her the idea just a few days before. She didn’t need much in the way of convincing.
“Oh! Wouldn’t it be funny, though?”
“Togged to the bricks and then some, Moggy!”
We descended upon the bride’s house on Clinton Street early that morning, a small giggling army brandishing paintbrushes and adhesive and Undark. Olive got to work on Imogen’s pale hands, painting delicate bangles around her slender wrists after finishing her nails. I was in charge of her feet, gently massaging her heels with DuBarry special skin cream like she was the Queen of Sheba before painting her toenails with the radioluminescent paint. I asked our blushing girl if she wanted me to paint bangles on her ankles as well, but Olive shushed me.
“We don’t want
