Free Vienna by William S. Kirby

stranger. Her hair was the same brownish-red, but it was so shiny. It hung low on her forehead, swept to the left. From her temples to the back of her head, it fell straight and full and sleek to her shoulders. Like the beautiful pictures she saw in Saint-Hubert. She slowly reached up to touch it. Feelings of corporeal dislocation are strong indicators of incipient seizures. So her doctors warned.
    â€œDo you like it?” Justine asked.
    â€œIt’s pretty, I think.”
    â€œMe too.”
    Vienna turned her head from side-to-side, watching her hair catch the light. Angle of incidence equals angle of reflection … “How much do I owe you? I have twenty euros and—”
    â€œAlready paid,” Justine interrupted. “And don’t get comfortable in that chair. We’re just getting started.”
    They stepped to the sidewalk and Justine gave another address. Vienna found it on her map and turned left. Justine followed without question.
    She doesn’t know where we’re going! I could have gone the other way.
    Vienna had always assumed that real lies—significant ones—were something she could never aspire to. That was part of how she was. But now … She detoured three blocks before meandering back almost to where they had started. Justine didn’t notice.
    She’s so stupid.
    Uncertain how to use her newfound power, Vienna resumed the correct course. They ended up at a shop that sold nothing but glasses. “Mikli unisex,” Justine said. “Keep it black on the arms, and darker red for the frames.” She requested several more pairs of glasses, creating an embarrassing pile of rejects on the table in front of Vienna. “I like the first pair,” Justine said. “What about you, Vienna?”
    â€œOkay.” The lenses were narrow ellipses that curved slightly around her eyes. The geometry could be approximated in Euclidean space by …
    â€œ Vous avez bon goût, ” said the young man helping them. “We require three days for the prescription.”
    â€œNo prescription needed.”
    The man bowed slightly. “Then you may take them with you. The total is three hundred and eighteen euros.”
    Vienna felt a warm flush spread across her face. “We can’t—”
    Justine cut her off with a slice of her hand. “You’re new here?” she said to the man.
    â€œOui. This week.”
    â€œYou must learn it is distasteful to speak of money in public.” Justine handed the man an American Express card, black with metallic swirls along the edges. It was not nearly as colorful as most cards Vienna had seen, but the man stammered as he took it. “Of course, mademoiselle.”
    â€œPlease add twenty percent for your service.”
    The man nodded again. “Merci.”
    Outside, Justine took Vienna by the arm. “Our studious doll needs a timepiece. She has places to go, cops to outsmart, wars to study. We want classic and quiet. Something less ostentatious from Rolex.”
    â€œBut those are expensive.” At least Vienna had heard they were. She had no idea what a Rolex looked like.
    â€œNot for girls who dye their hair neon blue, they aren’t.”
    Vienna looked away. “I saw the picture they took of you when your hair was like that.”
    Justine smiled. “You don’t approve?”
    â€œHow can you be nude while people take your picture?”
    â€œThat shot was taken by Flora Kierse. She is very sweet, on the far side of sixty, and has exactly zero interest in seeing females naked. Unless my gaydar is broken, her assistant has even less. You have to learn what people are after.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œFlora Kierse is trying to understand the human condition. Good photographers have that angle: Demarchelier, Biyan, Holt. Flora’s fascination comes through in her pictures. It’s what makes her a master. ‘The proper study of mankind