Everything is perfect in Miss Perfection’s prefect little world. She is flawless. She has the most perfect little face, perfect hair, and a perfect smile.
Everyone envied Miss Perfection and her perfect life
She lives in a perfect house, in a perfect little village. She has perfect friends, and a perfect little cat. She loves to spend afternoons in her perfect garden. She loves to bake perfect little cakes, and host perfect tea parties for her perfect friends.
But no matter how perfectly perfect Miss Perfection’s perfect life seems, underneath her smile is nothing but hollow darkness, and perfect emptiness.
Cold nothingness lies beyond the borders of her perfect little village.
She is but an image, a few words, a victim of imagination. Her soul is trapped beneath her wax skin for eternity. She can never be free.
2 comments:
Beautiful. Perfectionism is a desire, an unreachable desire.
Yes, so true.
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