A Visitor

The TV on the wall suddenly got Sally's attention as the news report flashed up. An overly buxom, perfectly made-up redhead was sat at the newsdesk, showing a scandalous amount of cleavage as she beamed at the camera. A small, dull heart was visible on her cheek under the studio lights, a beauty-mark reminder that she was a PinkHeart patient

“...but before today's main stories, we go live to Dining Street for the daily SARS-BIMBV-21 press conference, with the Prime Minister Horace Brownstone.”

The view switched to a handsome man in his late 30's, all chiselled good looks and perfectly styled hair. He stood at a podium bearing the government logo, flanked on each side by his chief scientific advisors - two extortionately chesty blondes in lab coats and turtleneck sweaters, each clinging to an arm as tightly as the wool was clinging to their curves.

There had a scandal a few months ago where the married prime minister had caught PinkHeart from a young intern. Thanks to a stubborn disbelief in masks and distancing, he had also managed to infect most of his cabinet and scientific advisors before he could safely be isolated for a fortnight with his furious wife (who was soon less “furiously angry” and more “furiously horny”, as she was also infected). Despite the near-crisis he had caused, Horace had somehow defied all the polls with his marriage and position intact, coming out the other side stronger than ever. Gone was the bumbling buffoon, replaced with a handsome, coherent and popular leader, who was ever-ready to face the press pool head-on with plenty of intimate, one-on-one interviews (or 2-on-one interviews, if his wife wanted to join in).

“Good Evening everyone.” Horace said, his voice as deep and rich as he looked into the camera, his smile almost glinting in the lighting that also caught the identical pink hearts they all shared above their left eyebrows.

“Today I have good news again, as I can tell you all that cases of the virus are once more decreasing thanks to...”

Sally watched the pair nod along as he spoke, each of them reaching down infront of the PM and teasing him, no doubt getting a good feel of his own “podium” as he addressed the viewers.

She was interrupted by a knocking on the shop's door - closed and locked at this time as it was well after opening hours. Muttering to herself, Sally wandered over to the door as she prepared to unlock it and tell whoever it was to come back tomorrow.

Because of the darkness outside and the reflection of the glass, all she could see was a shape in what appeared to be an oversized cream trenchcoat. She couldn't see a face but from how the coat was hanging, the overall term that came to mind could generously be described as “pudgy” or else just plain old “fat”.

“Yes? Can I help you?” Sally asked, her voice edged with “You have 30 seconds before this door closes” after opening the door, her chest puffing out as she looked at the visitor questioningly.

In the half-darkness of the doorway a pair of mesmerising blue eyes looked back at her, framed by a flash of blonde hair inside the hood of the coat. Sally couldn't see much else in the gloom since the rest of her visitors features were covered by a mask, but she noted the smile in the eyes of her visitor that had appeared when she opened the door.

"Hi! Um, I know this is late and its out of the blue, but I was wondering if the job was still available?” the visitor asked, a hopeful tone in her voice as she held out a hand for Sally to shake. “I've wanted to work here since you opened, and was kinda waiting for an advert to be put up!”