Beauty Parade


Tamara was perfectly beautiful, and knew it.  She floated down the mall concourse - her sumptuous body ablaze with gold chiffon - keenly aware of the hungry stares of every male she passed, and the trail of angry partners she left behind.  She did not care - it was her right to be desired.

She had no objective in mind that day, other than to be noticed, but was still irritated by the bent old woman who shuffled ahead of her, blocking her way. "Oh hurry up, you old hag," she hissed angrily.

The old woman turned slowly and, looking up at Tamara, gave her a wrinkled, toothless grin. "I was once like you," she croaked, "gorgeous, young, and so very arrogant.  But the years will take their toll, you just wait and see."

Tamara sneered.  "I will never be like you!  I look after myself, and moisturise every day."

The old woman's eyes crinkled with mirth and, wagging a gnarled finger at the young woman, replied,  "So did I....  so did I."

quirky short story about beauty, aging and death



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