Lipstick

Heavy hours spent in a basement where the wrinkles of days and their calamities accumulated. Carrying the press camera for her work, a journalist in one of the news TV channels, after documenting a film about a woman living alone in that basement for quite some time in an area devoid of inhabitants that had fallen into ruin, which aroused the journalist's curiosity to unveil that woman sitting crouched in front of scattered clothes, apologizing to a doll lying beside her that she would organize the clothes by nightfall to choose the most beautiful to dress the doll in, and that she has a few lipsticks, perhaps almost used up.

In front of an old broken irregularly seen mirror with sharp edges, she approached, stopping the doll, addressing the mirror that today is this girl's wedding, and she will dress her in the white wedding dress. She gathered the scattered clothes and dressed the doll, and with the remaining lipsticks, she drew thick lips on the doll, releasing laughs mixed with screams and crying. She began to remove the lipstick from the doll's lips, took off the clothes and scattered them, then sat crouched with the doll lying beside her once again, apologizing as if she had undone her spinning after a strong shaking.