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Short story: <i>A Nice Cup Of Tea</i>

People say that beauty is only skin deep, and that it’s what’s inside a person that really counts, but when you look like me, people tend to forget that there might be anything inside me at all worth looking for.

I know that I’m not much to look at. I know that my skin is crumpled and pale old paper; that my eyes are like sunken, dried out pieces of fruit; that my limbs are gnarled and crooked tree roots. I know that my hips are held together with rivets; I can’t hear so well anymore; and that people who aren’t ignoring me or shouting at me like I’m an idiot are avoiding eye contact so they don’t have to ascertain whether or not I’ve actually just died.

And I don’t care.

Because when I sit down in my old recliner with my new kitten and indulge in a cup of tea and a ginger biscuit, I count my blessings.

I still have all my own teeth.

This is the result of a fifteen minute writing exercise. The only constrictions were the time limit and five randomly selected words from the dictionary. Today the words were: skindeep, rivet, indulge, crooked, ascertain.

Image courtesy of fortinbras.

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Pretty good, pretty good. Although I wouldn't use "All My Teeth" as the title so that the last sentence has greater impact.

I take your point!