BEAUTY IS NOT EVERYTHING

She walked into the banking hall, with her pointed shoes announcing her arrival minutes before you saw her. She wore that kind of dress that convinces you that heaven is missing an angel.

The aroma of her perfume would easily finish a bowl of eba for its sweetness. And the phone which she gingerly held to her ear, without minding the security guy that was waving frantically at her that calls are not allowed in banking halls, will cost a small fortune.

She stepped forward, picked a deposit slip and searched frantically for a pen. About five guys offered her their pens but she took mine, maybe because I was closest to her. After a while, or a long while because time stood still, she stood up and inched closer to me. 

I was sweating like a Christmas goat and huffing and puffing like a Monitor lizard. She whispered, "Please can you spell 'thirty' for me?" I looked down at her deposit slip in surprise.

She had written, 'Tarty Tausan' Blood of Zachariah!!!!!

BEAUTY IS NOT EVERYTHING