Dressed in her long, fluffy, marshmallow pink dressing
gown, she readied herself at her chestnut dressing table,
ready to begin. She gathered her thoughts, while perched
on her velvet covered stool, preparing her mind for the
challenge that laid ahead. Today, was just like any other
day for her, but she knew the challenges that she needed
to face, and the battles that she needed to win. But right
now, sitting there, and enjoying the luxurious feel of the
buttery softness of the velvet on her skin, she knew she
wasn’t strong enough, to face the day. Not quite yet.
She studied her small oval face in the reflection of the
mirror, and instinctively, traced the dark circles underneath
her eyes, the pigmentation on her cheeks, and the slight
receding hairline on the crown of her head. The only signs
of aging on her glistening skin, lay two small wrinkles
dancing at the corner of her eyes.
She opened her drawers and fingered the creams, lotions
and serums that hid out of sight. One quick look back at her reflection and she knew where to begin. Carefully, she
pulled out her small tub of eye cream, conscious only to use
a pea-sized amount, and she dabbed it gently around the
circumference of her eyes, caressing it, into her already
soft skin.
Satisfied, with the first layer of protection in place, she
picked up the concealer and iceberg-white makeup sponge
and smoothed it over every inch of her face, brushing away
all the imperfections that threatened to penetrate her
shield, with just one swift movement of the sponge.
Picking up one of her many long-stemmed make-up
brushes, she glided her favourite full coverage foundation
gently across her primed face. As she finished, she admired
her work, turning her head from side-to-side, tilting,
cocking; making sure that every inch of her would be
protected. Impenetrable.
With a quick flick of her pink brush, she buffed golden
bronzer across her puffy cheeks, like an artist with his
paintbrush. Staring intently at her reflection, she wiped a
slow smile off her face, as she realised, her camouflage
could still be seen.
She picked up her jet-black eyeliner, and with one finger
pulling her eyelids taut, she drew on lines of determination
along the lengths of her eyelids. She was now ready for the
magic brush. She picked it up and admired the luminous
yellow tube that it lay in and carefully, she flicked the thick
sticky liquid onto her eyelashes, gently pulling at the roots
of her short hairs until it turned into beautiful butterfly
wings.
As she finished, she looked at the warrior standing before
her, invincible to what laid ahead, and a satisfied smile
finally filled her face. She was ready now.
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