by
n+1
(editor)
n+1 Issue 41: Snake Oil
n+1 Issue 41: Snake Oil
by
n+1
(editor)
by
n+1
(editor)
n+1 Issue 41: Snake Oil
by
n+1
(editor)
by
n+1
(editor)
97
Lucky Breaks
Because that's the kind of country we have, OK?
(missing author)
Because that's the kind of country we have, OK?
(missing author)
0
terms
2
notes
111
The only language the cosmetologist understood — the woman knew this with a sure and certain knowledge — was the language of skin.
You can visit the cosmetologist whenever you feel troubled, but you must arm yourself with phrases like My face is bloated or My skin is dehydrated, it lost its luster and is showing faint wrinkles or else you must resort to such scientific-sounding expressions as My epidermis is lacking collagen again.
And the cosmetologist — so the woman was convinced for no apparent reason — will understand that these aren’t mere words, but that they conceal mountain ranges of sobbing and deserts of heartache penetrating the body like a small hungry animal too cute to be dexterously annihilated.
from the short story 'A Woman at the Cosmetologist’s' - kind of nice
The only language the cosmetologist understood — the woman knew this with a sure and certain knowledge — was the language of skin.
You can visit the cosmetologist whenever you feel troubled, but you must arm yourself with phrases like My face is bloated or My skin is dehydrated, it lost its luster and is showing faint wrinkles or else you must resort to such scientific-sounding expressions as My epidermis is lacking collagen again.
And the cosmetologist — so the woman was convinced for no apparent reason — will understand that these aren’t mere words, but that they conceal mountain ranges of sobbing and deserts of heartache penetrating the body like a small hungry animal too cute to be dexterously annihilated.
from the short story 'A Woman at the Cosmetologist’s' - kind of nice
112
Beauty salons are, in their own way, war trenches and dugouts. Hungry soldiers hide in them, smeared with creams, injured by injections, ready to endure anything for the sake of anything.
Beauty salons are, in their own way, war trenches and dugouts. Hungry soldiers hide in them, smeared with creams, injured by injections, ready to endure anything for the sake of anything.