She had been there many times before.  She had sat there, trying not to breathe in the mixture of nail polish remover and heavy perfume that lingered in the air.  She had watched as someone hurried over her hands, trying to finish as quickly as possible.  She had handed over her two crumpled dollars millions of times, trying to tip the girl without messing up her nail polish.  She even knew who all of the girls were, and which to avoid.

            She had never seen the new girl though.  She didn’t think much of it at first as she was ushered to a table and put her hands out.  The girl did the usual routine, picking up the file and running it over the edges of the nails with quick precision.  It was all the same as always, the dipping the fingers in the soapy, lukewarm water, the pulling of tools out of the container of sanitizing liquid and using them.  It was like some ancient ritual.  Always the same.

            But, suddenly, not the same.  The girl pulled out a different lotion than the usual oily kind.  With a gentle touch instead of the usual hurry, she massaged it into her customer’s dry skin.

            It reminded her of how much she missed her ex-boyfriend.  He used to give her hand massages.  She closed her eyes, trying not to think about him.  She used those relaxation exercises her older sister had taught her.  Concentrate on your breathing.  Imagine yourself on the beach.  Now, melt into the sand.  Melt your fingers into the sand.  Your hands…

            The girl kept massaging her hands with a smile.  When she opened her eyes again, she returned the smile graciously.  Smiles were like presents, and, in someone’s busy job, they were usually rare.

            She didn’t even notice what happened in the rest of the manicure.  She was too busy watching the girl focus on her work.  When it was over, she sighed and fished the usual two dollars out of her pocket.  The girl’s smile convinced her to pull out an extra bill.  Five dollars.  She had never tipped any manicurist that much, ever.  She handed it to the girl before getting up and sticking her fingers under that weird blue light thing that dried them.

            She didn’t expect it, but it didn’t seem so weird when it happened.  She was just sitting there, letting the blue glow dry her nails, when a light kiss brushed against her neck.  She looked up, but the girl was already walking away.  In fact, it might not have been her at all, except for the knowing smile and pink cheeks.

            She stood up, not caring if her nails didn’t dry.  She just walked over to the girl and kissed her back, right on the lips.  Her wet nails got caught in the girl’s pretty hair, but neither of them really cared.

            No words had even passed between them…  Well, not including the usual dialogue: “Put your fingers here.  Do you want your eyebrows done?  Go wash and dry your hands, now.”

            “Do you believe in love at first sight?” she asked the girl.

            She got no verbal answer.  Just another kiss.  She let herself relax, feeling it work better than her sister’s deep breathing technique.  Melt…  Melt yourself into her...  Until you can’t tell the difference between you and her.  Just like with the sand.  Be one.  Melt.