Bre dipped her makeup sponge into the green foundation.
Alicia sat in the aisle seat, her Dorothy costume packed inside the garment bag folded atop her lap. “Oh, I was just gonna change in the bathroom at the depot.”
Bre dabbed her cheeks. A large man in a cowboy hat walking sideways down the aisle smiled a gap-toothed grin at her emerald complexion. He kneed the back of her chair as he flopped into the window seat behind her. Bre rolled her eyes. “I’ll be the wicked witch before we even get to Tijuana.”
word count: 94
This piece of flash fiction is in response to this week’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers. It’s been quite some time since my last Friday Fictioneers post. I’m happy to return on such a special week: Rochelle’s 3-year-anniversary as facilitator. Congratulations Rochelle!