Last week, I ran into an older woman – 70, maybe 75? – in the ladies room and commented on what beautiful skin she had. It glowed, truly, with just the right amount of weathering that announced to the world, I have been places. I have seen things. These lines contain wisdom; my face is
One needs only to burn their bicep with a curling iron to begin thinking of vanity. It was Sunday. I want to write that I was rushed, that the burn was a byproduct of a frenzied morning and a failed attempt in multi-tasking, but the truth is that my mind was elsewhere and my reflexes