Beauty Treatment


I hate being woken up especially when I’ve been in a deep sleep. Every day it seems the same,shuffling and fretting all night. Then just when sleep is at its most distant from the real world, the alarm shatters my sleep and drags my consciousness back at high speed to another dreary day. I feel so tired as I dress. The water from the tap as I clean my teeth, makes me jump from its cold bite. I sit at my bedroom mirror a twenty four year old woman. The reflection seems nearer forty.I heave a deep sigh. There is a mass of make-up and perfume surrounding me. Where do I start? Shall I use the pastes and paints to hide or to advertise? My spirit wants to hide after all what’s the point? The men never stay. Not when they see the forty year old me. Am I really that bad, is it me or them? It must be them I’ll prove it. I’ll put on my longest lashes, the brightest lips, all my nails, hands and toes, re-varnished. Hair re-styled, a new look, something with flair. When it’s all done my reflection looked great but the time I had spent made me late for the train. It would have been alright if all of those silly people had got out of the way. Sometimes I think they are doing it deliberately just to spoil my day. I swear at them and the train and plonk myself down on the nearest bench and scowl. A young man looks at me and quickly looks away when I see him. That’s right don’t look at the madwoman. So much for the new look, he probably only likes women with big boobs. He looks quite nice; if he looks back I will smile at him but he doesn’t look back, he is being distracted by something. What is it that he is so interested in? Then I see her coming along the platform towards us. She is only an ordinary looking girl, nice but nothing special yet there is something about her that makes us both stare. Whatever it is he likes it. It’s not boobs; they’re no bigger than mine. Then what? Her clothes?  Her hair? I don’t think so. She just looks; well happy I suppose. It’s only then that I recognized her, its Melanie from the office. She looks different, something has changed in her, what is it? The man smiles at her as she reaches me. She politely smiles back.

“Hi Mel,” I say, “Looks like we are both late for work then.”

“Yeah looks like,” Mel says cheerily,“Never mind could be worse eh?”

She sits down on the bench next to me. It’s not make-up.

“Mel,” I say tentatively, “Are you in love or something because you look so happy?”

She beams at me, “No course not.”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)