Friday, April 22, 2005
Laura had stunning, straw-blond hair and a perfect face. Not a single blemish was to be found on that baby-smooth skin of hers. No pimples. No wart on the nose. No cracked lip. Not even a freckle. She toured the country with her brunette manager, living out of the back of a van, appearing to aesthetically minded audiences, offering them facial symmetry for the two short hours she stood before them, spotlights trained on her so that no pore should remain in shadows. She'd stand up blinking into the glare, nodding slowly from side to side, so that everyone could see each of her profiles. And they'd sit there, peering and glancing and gazing and studying the harmony she offered them. Spontaneous waves of applause would burst out and bounce from one side of the auditorium to the other. Little did she know they were looking at her legs.