From the distance of the other side of the room she looked frozen in time.
Ageless.
It was only upon an introduction and a subsequent discussion that the woman from across the room of thirty five was in truth fifty.
As I looked at her during our conversation I was struck by the reality that although she, like so many others, may attempt to freeze time with needles and chemicals, the sad irony was that her face had become strangely lifeless.
The wrinkles may have been banished, but so had the expressions that make us different from stone carvings- that make us who we are. No smile- just a mouth that changed shape- the twinkle in her eyes and as she laughed suppressed like the laughter lines around them.
It was as if life itself had been hidden behind a mask.
And up close it seemed that for all her desire to retain it, beauty itself had been stolen.
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