I rush down the mall center lane, aiming to be punctual for my job appointment.

Two sales associates hover in front of a skincare shop which features gold in the product. Gold for skin care? Really?

They have samples. I snatch one.  The associate asks if I use eye cream. Of course, I do.  Not very often, but it's not a lie.

At my age and experience level, I should know better than to answer that question.  I'm honest and forthcoming to a fault, and this is going to cost me.

The associate drags me into the shop to show me the special eye cream.  It tightens and firms. And smudges my makeup puckering the bags under my eyes. It's like desiccant stretching the skin, sort of like mummification.

My mummified eye bags and I separate ourselves from the ass...

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