Fading Beauty

By Huina Zheng

In front of the bookshelf, my mother pulled out a heavy copy of the Xinhua Dictionary, its pages worn. From its depths, she withdrew a photograph and handed it to me. I’m much prettier than she is, my mother said. I looked down at the picture, which, too, had yellowed with time. There she was, her hair tied in a ponytail, slim and wearing a form-fitting dress, leaning against a handsome man who looked just as youthful. Her eyes sparkled with a smile, a beautiful girl from another time. It was a photo from before she and Dad were married. Right? she said, I’m much prettier than that vixen. He’ll definitely come back to me. Her eyes gleamed with a strange, almost feverish hope. I glanced at her swollen face, her dry, rough skin, and her plump body. The doctor stated, I said, holding her hand, as long as you stick to the medication, hypothyroidism can be controlled. Everything will be okay.

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