6. Break

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April 8, 2013 by tonyberkman

Writing Table

She stared at her reflection in the toothpaste-speckled mirror until her eyes lost focus and all she could see was an outline of her former glory; splodges of cream and blonde and blue. A moment later, she snapped back to the present and bared her teeth at the woman before her. Oh Tess, you animal, she thought, that face is enough to make anyone run for the hills. Her expression became solemn once more and she continued to watch her reflection, eyes vanishing to slits. Even now that her face was still, she felt the cracks forming. They split my mouth in two and now they’re coming for you, cheeks. And you’ll be next, nose. This was through no fault of her foundation – she had applied the same, liberal amount as before – no, it was something far more involved than the daily mask she used to…

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