Her skin had a mind of its own and seemed to enjoy betraying her, especially since her life had become, well, perfect. Perfect house. Perfect partner. Perfect diet. Perfect world. So, why was her perfect skin suddenly chapped and cracked?
“You’re ruining me,” Sally cried, unable to stop her fingers from chasing the itch that just kept getting deeper. “Stop, please … because I can’t.”
Skin lodged under her fingernails. The scratches were ugly, and raw, and red.
“Why have you betrayed me?” she pleaded. “I’ve brushed you, fed you, loved you.”
“Easter penance. Too much perfection,” the scratches chimed. “Your resurrection.”