Pretty Things

by Janelle Brown

beauty is ephemeral: There’s always a newer, brighter bauble to replace it.

I lived for the serotonin hit that came with a new outfit: a dress straight off the runway, a perfectly draped scarf, shoes that made people stare on the street.

they sent texts, but didn’t pick up the phone.

Objects that transcended all of this, objects that had endured centuries of indifferent owners, objects whose enduring mystery and beauty lived in opposition to the ephemeral nature of our digital age. These things would still exist when I did not, and I counted myself fortunate to be able to have time with them at all.

Shame that I did not do more with what I did have, and shame that I pretended that the road I’d taken was the only option I had.

We all build our own delusions and then live inside them, constructing walls to conveniently hide the things we don’t want to see.