"Oh, my God, D'arcy....look at the add!" The beautiful mirror of the huge sign, a miniature in his newly-engaged arms - almost - shook with fear. D'Arcy looked up, still smelling the
acrid explosion in his nostrils.
His beauty....marred impossibly by fire. The sign was ablaze, her face one huge sheet of flame, the last blink of the lights, like gentle, painted tattoo white lights around her eyes - an exceptional "traditional tribal" paint touch which Madame George had added at the last minute - were now the last electric firewall for the only unburning thing, and they stared blackly out at everyone, in an obscene visual scream.
She only sobbed once, staring up at herself, held tight in his arms, but burned now, beyond recognition, on the huge billboard scant blocks away from them. It didn't matter what colour her hair had been......
She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. He turned her face into his neck, stroking her hair, and murmuring to her gently.
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