Mary Beth

With her hair tied back into a slick ponytail, Mary Beth laid back on the ripped, red couch and lit her cigarette. The feeling as she inhaled blessed her with relief and relaxation. Her maroon jumpsuit was coffee stained and smelled like alcohol and sweat. On the end table stood a small mirror with the reflection of Mary's wrinkled face. At age 24, she shouldn't look so dried up. The image of herself forced her to take a fourth drink of her favorite vodka. She contiued to drink as she watched herself act. The sound of the symphony number 9 gave a flashback of her life as a child; another drink, please. She turned to her face to the left and stared at the hidious birthmark on the side of her face. Her features made her look like a dragqueen, oh what a sight. The wrinkles, remember only 24, sagged like a 67 year-old grandma. Her eyes, green as a fresh blooming flower. If only people saw just her eyes, her life would be almost perfect.

Giving a last shot at her face, she showed her teeth and tried to smile. It didn't work well, since her teeth were old corn kernals. One more drink, please.