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She looked like a reaper disguised in an innocent woman's face.
Her face was slender and bony, her cheek bones prominent. She wore full makeup no matter the occasion. Her skin as pale as snow, her lips as red as a rose, her cheeks rosy like an apple, her eye lids purple as an amethyst, and her eyelashes as black as coal. She always wore the same makeup, and I have to admit it was becoming of her. She was the most beautiful fifty year old woman there had ever been. For some reason, being in a car with Grandmama felt completely wrong, and every part of my being wanted to leave.
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