WRITING: Editing–mo’ yet, mo’ yet

Okayokayokay.  And I realize it’s not just words, but likely whole lexias that can fall by the wayside.  One lexia at a time though:

YOLANDA

Down the road to the west where sunsets sizzle like a ball of
melting butter, a shadow jogged closer in little flicks of black.
Yolanda picked through the basket of jalapeños with fingers fat and stiff as sausages.  She selected one and stabbed it with a threaded needle, drawing it up into a ristra.

The black specter bobbled in the distance.  She leaned forward in
her chair and squinted into the sun.  Wind whistled out of her in a
long low moan. She picked up the bottle of beer beside her and sucked it dry. Her fingers rubbed the water rings left on the
table then wiped them on her neck.  The wetness felt good.  She rolled
the bottle against breasts that mounded above a blouse stretched
to its limits.

(131 words)