Belinda

At 6AM officer Knudson stopped her for running the red light. She rolled down her window.

"License and registration please." he grumbled, shining the flashlight into her vehicle.

She reached across to the glove compartment and took out her registration. She rummaged around her leopard skin bag for her wallet, pulled out her license and handed it to him, her iridescent blue nail polish visible. When he glanced up at her he spotted dark red water dripping down her neck from under her cap. It looked like mercurochrome.

 "Ma'm, you're leaking red liquid on your neck."

"Oh, that's my hair dye. I was just swimming at the YMCA pool. I'm actually still in my bathing suit."

"It's 8 degrees out and you're dripping wet?"

"When I come out of the YMCA pool. I can't use a towel because it will make my skin wrinkle."

"That's a high price to pay for beauty."

"My husband is fourteen years younger than me and so I try my best to look his age."

"I see."  Knusdon wondered if she was telling the truth. It was dark and he was tired.

"I tell my husband it's it's one thing for me to get up at 4:30 to swim at 5:AM but quite another to drive home soaking wet, in winter."

"The things we do for love,"  he said, handing back her license and registration. She noticed he was wearing black leather murderer's gloves. "Go home and warm up. Next time, stop at the red light."

"Thank you, officer . . ."

"Knudson," he said, blushing slightly in the cold.