Her ringlets lay perfectly on her shoulder, her eyebrows were plucked to perfection.
“Tighter” she ordered,
The corset throttled her body, the threads once again pulled forcefully.
“Tighter” she ordered
And the corset perfectly fit her, her graceful figure shaped through a hard piece of cloth.
Her ribs were slightly bent, her lungs had a lesser space to expand.
But she was satisfied.
Her face was painted white, as white as the first snowfall of winter.
Her lips were stung to soreness, yet they stood out.
She fit her feet into shoes with heels, Her feet, slightly twisted, her heels, extremely elevated.
But she was satisfied,
She took a deep breath
But she couldn’t, for her lungs had no space
“Beauty is Pain.”
And she entered the ball.