I didn’t think I would look quite so . . . wizened. The wrinkles on my forehead, which I was already conscious of, have taken up permanent residence, engraved like a pair of train tracks. My neck has a newly crepey quality and the crow’s feet around my eyes have become deeply etched.Having apparently lost all sense of taste in old age, I am wearing a truly awful pair of glasses. Stranger still, I have gone blonde.
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