Bare.

And as the lines fade, the reality becomes something new and unique. Who ever said anything about good though? It has the unfortunate tendency to keep one on their toes.

She could only ask for Him to step in, sweep all up in arms and take control. To make motions to things to look so wonderfully different. It is a desire that was so raw- the understatement was considerable. It mattered not how much she felt; what mattered is how they also ached. She could see the weights that pressed against their muscles, pulling them taut and causing them to knot and bunch, a ropy mass under the thin shirt. She could see the lines that began to appear ever deeper and deeper on their forehead. Were they the cause of many eyebrow-raisings? Or many scrunchings in thought? Or maybe something deeper, something more wracking and naked? Ah.

She looked at her own eyes and noticed dark circles. Underlining the lack of sleep that had come about with the mocking tone of makeup. Who ever wore this stuff anyway? Bare seems to be more preferable.

As she moved, she saw her own hands, coursed and bloody from the hand-wringing that she had done, bringing them to a stinging, horrible shape of contorted and gruesome flesh.

The beginnings were the oddest part, she would say to herself. Characters are just starting to shape up and the setting is then set. The plot is introduced and things become greater and more forward. Peut-être ces choses sont pour la foi.