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Truth might take time, but beauty took effort
Truth might take time, but beauty took effort. Leaning into the vanity, Sydney balanced the tweezer against her thumb. She pruned her brow with the precision of a sniper, plucking one hair at a time. Weiss tried to snake his arm through the crack in the door, but she met his overture with a slam. “Sydney, there's nothing wrong with being a high-testosterone female.” “Lower your voice! Neighbors can hear you!” “I am the neighbors,” he yelped, offering a fine imitation of a wounded dog. Finally, she peeked outside. “Brawn wins the fight,” she lectured, “but beauty wins the game.”
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