NOW PLAYING (In Various States of Undress)

-Hold still, one last stroke and you will be done with.

-mmmmh

-Look up, darling, up, at the chandelier.

Tiny little crystals, orange and purple in the setting sun. Stars on the ceiling someone called it. They shimmer and shine, clinking each other on the windy evening. I blink.

-Muaaaah!

-Wait, its done. Just there…stop crying, you are ruining it! Oh fuck!

-Maaaha!

-Oh god, go wash. I’ll do it again.

Left, right and then a blast of gaudy pink walls. Then aqua-green with occasional ornate tile. The mirror-clean and devoid of any complimentary or alternative colours. I stand and watch the eyeliner run down from wide, red eyes into the region of rouge and foundation and some other very expensive but unidentified objects from the make-up cupboard of a very pretty but terribly dressed aunt.

So fascinated by the graceless, untidy line of black running wantonly down well-made cheeks. I never thought I could look so pretty, so…so devastated? So fragile, I am almost ugly. I tease the line into a half moustache, a twirl at the end and rub it around my eyes-Kathakali style. Right now, I could be a drunken artist, stripped of his pride as foreigners dressed for an evening out watch them and clap and jeer like at Moulin Rouge. He seems drunk and terribly angry, no wait, downcast. Somehow his expressions and contained and limited and his vigour is lost.

-Get out of the bathroom!

I do and I would have liked it if only my aunt hadn’t hit the stray closet at the corner while we laughed our pretty assses off.

I have a bad rash breaking out on my face and this was the only way to commemorate it.

*Waves at Crazy Diamond* Yes I am thinking about you.