Pink by Yulyana Terschenko

Sasha loved pink.
“The color of Fuxia” she called it. This tiny little girl at the office barely could reach my shoulder and my height is slightly less than average. But you can’t avoid noticing her when she wants you to. Mainly because of her pink clothing which catches your eye. Pink wherever you go. Pink whatever you do at the office. Pink blouse and her squeaky voice. Pink blouse and the pinkest lipstick you can find at the drugstore. Pink blouse and knocking of her high heels.
She had a very strange attitude towards men. At first she tended to appear the cutest and kindest person one can ever meet. Some men believed her even though the predaceous colors she was wearing. But just after one week of your acquaintance passes she starts to behave as if she has been your wife for good 30 years. Nowhere you can go without her eyes on you. Nothing you can do without your permission even though thing are usually none of her business. But god forbid you to tell her that! She will be so injured that you will have to apologize for days and not get her forgiveness. Not the best attitude but somehow it worked. All men at the office were put on their toes by her. Everyone obeyed her.No one risked to disappoint her. Though I’m sure all of them dreamed about get rid of her. But when they saw that pink stain at the office they were turning to the most docile creatures in the world.
But Sasha didn’t speak to women. She wanted to believe she was the only female at her habitat. With her pink cashmere sweaters she frightened them off but actually no one ever wanted to talk to her as she was the worst image of girl friend you can get. But sometimes we had to talk to her. And it felt like talking to the giant flytrap. She couldn’t stand women. At least women at the office. I’ve seen her photos with her girl friends (as she didn’t have any male friends - they all were either her potential husbands either they didn’t exist for her) and they looked the same. The same pink.
I try not to think about Sasha but when I do I come to the decision that she’s very unhappy and insecure. She knows how to be a flytrap but she doesn’t know how to be a tulip.