ONCE UPON A TIME, long ago, before technology lit our eyes and mastered our days, a magic arose. And it moved with deliberate, mechanical precision to the heart of woman especially. This magic held abilities quite perverse - alluring and unforgiving. Without strings or wires seen, it could cause women to vanish slowly.
Perhaps the greatest trick it ever did contrive was its own visibility and settling into commonplace among weak young hearts as normality. Paranormality, if you will. And so it became that our women desired the magic for themselves. Even our girls began to fade.
In the end, the magic became recognized more as a diseased thought than magic at all, and its initial luster, a parasitic violence needed to be rescued from.
Grocery shopping is amongst my least favorite chore. That being the case, I don’t find myself locked in line behind the lady set to feed an army all too often. My wife finds value in shopping and lovingly keeps me from aisles filled with others carelessly roaming, reaching and bumping carts, apparently afflicted by some sort of momentary blindness or human regard. Recently, I took one for the team and set out for our local grocer with our middle daughter in tow. Together, we braved the zombied others scavenging for food and nearly made it out unscathed. That is, until we reached the gateway out - the ever eternal cashier line. We aged as we stood like statues. In attempt to busy my mind, I turned back to engage my 10-year old in distracting small talk. Her attention fixed on the glossy fake magazines explaining to her how much better the famous are than her.
She happens to love fashion, often mixing styles to make her own. It doesn’t always make sense, but she owns it and her patched style fits her well.
These particular images she sees on the magazines lining the checkout aisle reframe and pull at her valuation of beauty and allure. Captions give instructions such as, “How to Shed the Extra Pounds in time for Summer.” I can see the draw. She wants more of what she sees in the smiling faces of scantily clad, digitally enhanced women, owned by a desire to always be thinner and more perfect - to be beautiful.