That makeover artist lady began her work on me at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and it wasn’t until well after 5 o’clock that she finally set her tools down with a satisfying nod while handing me a mirror.
I peered at the mirror. I remember specifically telling her that I only want a light touch, but what looked back at me at the other side of the mirror was a face that looked less like a normal human being and more like a ghost in bad horror movies.
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