Suspenseful Seven-Sentence Sunday -- Found Writing

I was cleaning out the files on my desktop the other day, and opened a document I only barely remember creating. I think I had a dream about this start to a story. The document contained only these seven sentences:

She balances a small mirror in her left hand, focusing entirely on herself. With her right hand, she pencils brown arches over her eyes. She waits whenever there’s a bump in the road or the bus driver stops suddenly. She picks up the curve of the arch several times, which rather ruins the effect. She bites her tongue -- there's a silver ball pierced through it -- to aid in the procedure, as if the pain she inflicts upon herself improves her concentration. Eventually, she sees that I’m watching her, and her bright red lips bend like licorice as she suggests in a whisper a rather filthy activity, one I will spend a good portion of my afternoon imagining her doing with me. She texts and twitters for the rest of the ride to Manhattan, and I hope it’s all about me.

I find the protagonist quite creepy, and I will have to give some thought as to what horrible deeds he's up to.

Make sure you check out the other "Suspenseful Seven-Sentence Sunday" writers. I'm sure they have some delightful mischief to offer.