Literature
Mona Lisa
There is nothing wrong with a look at what I paid for. The colors and makeup combining to create a mirror image of whom they think I am. My eyes bright, my cheeks full, chin defined, but my lips are invisible, not to be seen.
‘Give us a smile,’ they say, ‘let us see those eyes light up’. I can never smile, not here, not ever.
‘They will flock by the hundreds to see you smile’ they say, ‘you could have any man you wanted if you smiled.’ But that’s the game isn’t it; as soon as I give in I’m done for. Who wants someone with no mystery?
