There’s a line on her forehead that didn’t used to be there. It’s directly between her eyebrows – her pale and almost invisible eyebrows which she always worried made her look a bit alien but not enough to paint them with pencil which looked even more alien. The line creases her forehead like the relentless drip of water creases rock, the steady passage of time that turns new to old, fresh to worn, the perky naive to the weary experienced. She considers buying some expensive wrinkle cream that promises to make lines disappear and bring forth the glow of youth … Continue reading That Moment