Doctor Azar studied Maria’s face intently, standing uncomfortably close, breathing heavily. Then he prodded the dark sunken shadows beneath her eyes. “You need Tear Trough fillers.” He enunciated the words with great authority.
Her expensive new hall mirror had finally exposed the lies she had been telling herself for years. Her porcelain skin and cascading auburn hair were definitely fading and, according to her husband, her small but perfect breasts were rapidly heading south.
The fabulous before and after photos on Dr Azar’s website had drawn her inexorably into his world and into his plush office. He began telling her about his extraordinary results, but she wasn’t convinced that he was a real surgeon. She couldn’t endure the thought of the “non-surgical, minimally invasive procedure with very little pain”, even to save her marriage, so she picked up her coat and walked away.
Over a chilled glass of wine that evening Maria’s friend commented on how well she looked. “Have you had surgery?” Maria smiled, her laughter lines deepening. “No, but I’m filing for divorce.”
I have written stories since I was able to write at the age of six or seven, but have only published historical non-fiction and one illustrate pre-school children's book. I really enjoy the challenge of micro and short fiction.
This story was shortlisted in the July 24 Monthly Micro Competition.