One from a year ago, one from yesterday.
Time had changed her once youthful face, it had aged (far too much for the passing of one year)
The tilt of her upward chin used to speak of confidence and promise. Disappointments now angled it towards the ground, as if resigned to the whisper: The stars are unreachable. You won't make it. Don't try.
The tilt of her upward chin used to speak of confidence and promise. Disappointments now angled it towards the ground, as if resigned to the whisper: The stars are unreachable. You won't make it. Don't try.
The strained smile of the second photo couldn't hope to compete against the effortless grin that of the first. It was less than a shadow.
And her eyes. Oh what happened to those animated eyes, always curious, full of an obstinate energy? When had they been replaced by this empty, fatigued stare?
From afar, her features looked the same. But up close, the slight differences became unsettling.
She put the photographs away. To be forgotten.
There was no point dwelling in what used to be.
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