I'm getting pretty good at this, I thought as I applied mascara from the new tube I had bought with a deft, unflinching hand. The lip liner I'd put on before my lipstick made my lips appear a critical millimeter or so plumper at the places where they seemed to need it ....... In a way this wasn't unlike those portraits I had painted for my whole family for Christmas a few years back. Each had its own unique set of criteria, which it would reveal to you as you worked on it; and sometimes you needed to fudge the truth a bit. Like softening the features (just enough, it still had to look like her...) on that one I did for my Aunt Livia, who was a dead ringer for Anthony Quinn...
There was no telling what Papa would think of my efforts this morning. As unforgiveable as Joy's crimes were to him, it was likely that no matter what I wore or did or said he'd continue to see me as having snake's eyes, horns and a tail. This mission of mine to fix his relationship with my sister by pretending to be her had a real Don Quixote feel to it. Everything I'd seen so far told me it was doomed to fail. But nonetheless I'd polished up my armor + was sallying forth once again...
PLAY . . NICE!
LAIKA PUPKINO ~ 2009
PART SEVEN: WINDMILLS 4, DON QUIXOTE 0
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This story is 236 words long.