July 30

The day her heart stopped was the day she learned she became too old to model. To model what? Her body, her shapes and curves all of those gym-perfected, personal trainer-fashioned leading lines that lead designers into greedy temptation. After all of the time spent counting calories, tweezing hairs, clean shave, fixing up the hair just right, whitening teeth, making herself the best product she can offer, her birthday came and went as did her dreams. Spent years dressing up in the nicest clothes in stores, feigning interest and pretending affluence, taking the hungrily to dressing rooms and dreaming of what it could be to wear those shape defining clothes every day for the glory. Men in crowds would gather and salivate to the temptress in red dresses and nothing ever sounded so provocative to her. Suddenly when there was a lull, a question of fashionable styles, the teeth that fell out and the hair follicles faded. That momentum, bodily perfection, ran dry and shrot. Everything began to deteriorate horribly. Implants popped and drooped down to where they should not be. Everything in her eyes tha made her up to be the most beautiful princess in the world fell apart and she cries until make up stains the ground beneath her feet like a trail of breadcrumbs to the bakery.