Wednesday, March 9, 2011
It all began with a tiny paper cut. As she flipped the page, its' edge rose up to one dainty finger and the blood began to spill. The tiny cut had barely healed when the edge of a bookshelf scrapped the skin off her elbow. Next she stubbed her toe on the edge of the door. Subtly, the edge of a low ceiling bent lower to graze her head. Too soon she lost her pretty smile to the edge of the mirror and her nails were chipped on the edge of a cereal box. Her beautiful exterior was deteriorating as all the edges suddenly got too close for comfort. Yet, the external damage is nothing compared to her internal turmoil.