Sophie couldn't pry her eyes from the morbid little thing even though her fresh manicure clutched a tantalizing drink menu. Her black halter hugged her curves, maybe a bit too much judging by the dull ache squeezing her floating ribs. Soft music inspired by exotic jungle islands soothed away her jittery nerves. Gradually she became aware of her red shoe tapping along with the beat. The bar hosted a vast collection of bottles, but their labels were impossible to decipher in the dim lighting. Her gaze wandered past postcards of topless hula girls and wooden masks tacked along the wall. A shrunken head smiled through stitched lips from its perch on a bamboo shelf. Dead things always reminded her of the summer she'd spent at a hunting lodge with her grandfather. Every room was lined with deer heads and stuffed birds, their dark glass eyes plaguing her every restless night. Such beautiful creatures they were; she never could see the purpose in hunting something solely to mount its head on a wall.
