Her alabaster skin was a colourful scribble.
‘You’re going on a raid?’ Philip asked.
His beautiful daughter, sullied for life.
Presumably some boy told her it was cool.
She rolled her eyes.
‘Dad!’ Her face was alive.
‘Glad you like it. You’ve got it forever.’
She pouted, dissatisfied.
What a stupid way to live.
Amanda watched him drag on his cigarette, breathe out an acrid wraith of smoke. She made a show of batting it away from her face.
‘Dad,’ she grimaced, ‘what a stupid way to die.’