Lost Hope

. . . she must have had hope that day in the drug store, hope that the peroxide would work.  The blonde hid the grey, but not the fact that it was there. The pony tail pulled up too high on her head tried to convince her there was still youth left in her. She stretched her arm in what she thought was a sexy movement as she flicked the ashes out the window, then drove off in a car that once, a long time ago, may have cost someone else a lot of money. . . at the corner on the way home from work.