Caught in still-life by the headlights of a camera, everyone else is pretty. No flaws airbrushed into perfection, yet, whether laughing, crying, or in a faint smile, every other face bloomed forth from paper with blinks of emotion. All except you.
Go on, try.
Blink into the mirror. Smile. Wink.
Not bad, right?
Try again with a camera.
Click.
Bzzz.
And your motionless reflection scares yourself.
Lenses blurring blemishes with life on another’s face snaps astringent on yours. Eyebags drooping, eyebrows painfully skewed, greasy hair, acne spattering across your cheeks. Every disgrace clear under the scalpels of a camera.
