The scrapbook contained row after row of tissues and napkins with a perfect lipstick pout blotted in the middle. "What in the heck?" Marjorie murmured to herself, sitting on the sofa surrounded by boxes. "Kiss Book!" Marjorie's sister, Marian, said with a bright smile. "Oh my gosh! Look! They're all labeled!" "Prom, 1956" said one; "Evan" said another (who in the heck was Evan?); "Speech Award" was also noted. "So ... Mom documented the lipstick she was wearing for every important day of her life?" Marjorie asked without looking up. "Wow; way to suck the magic out of it!" Marian giggled. "Mom commemorated every special event with a kiss." "Well, what are we supposed to do with these books?" Marjorie responded, annoyed. "Release them - release their energy," Marian said. "Here, come with me." she grabbed the oldest scrapbook and went outside; there, she tore off the first page's plastic film cover and sent the blot papers fluttering to the ground. A wave of surprise, nerves, excitement, shyness, and the hint of passion struck both girls for a moment and Marian cooed. "Man, this is going to be amazing," she said, moving on to Page Two. "I really do suck the magic out of everything," Marjorie said, her sudden realization bringing a mist to her eyes.