The Wrinkle

She sat in front of the mirror, softly humming as she combed her tresses…

“I feel pretty, oh so pretty

I feel pretty and witty and gay

And I pity anyone who isn’t me today!”

Oh how she wish, she could say…

“Mirror, mirror, on the world

Who’s the fairest of them all?”

And if her mirror could reply back, it would have sure declared she as the fairest of them all.

She seemed mighty pleased with her reflection, borderlinning on being vain. It didn’t matter to her, she was pretty and beautiful and vain.

And then she saw it! A wrinkle on her face. How was this even possible! She was only… she stopped short… a lady never reveals her age… even in her thoughts.

How was it even possible, considering her skin care routine?

“Why God why!” She lamented, “why are you doing this to me? Why have you forsaken me!”

Now she would have to go to the spa, adopt a new skin care routine. She would need to buy better brands, the ones she used weren’t working. And those new brands are showing going to cost her lot.

What if these too didn’t work, she would need to take Botox injection. She wondered how much would they cost? Would it be painful? How many injections would she need to take? How big a hole is it going to burn in her pocket? Could she even afford to take at least one? If she could, would it be affective? Would men find her attractive anymore?

So many questions, and no answer insight. She was stressing herself thin.

And just as she continued to stress herself, a second wrinkle appeared causing her to faint on the spot on its sighting.