Beauty lies in the beauty parlor

This is my favorite piece of writing. I enjoyed writing it and I hope that you'll enjoy reading it!

At 20 she was the talk of town. Dressed in a turquoise blue floral suit with a rose tied in her hair she walked past me. Her lips red as the cherries but not quite, her cheeks pink as if she was blushing but not quite, she smelled of the roses but not quite, something was fishy. Fishy and her, the talk of the town. Don't be absurd! She was the fair maiden for whom the eyes yearned for, a mere glimpse of her and the town went into awe. In the drought, her sight was like rain.

She was beautiful, they said. 

I asked, did you buy some of that beauty from somewhere? What nonsense she mumbled, Beautiful I was born. To roses and cherries, I asked? Move away you child, she replied.

Who, I am not a child. 

In the morning I saw her face covered behind a veil, she was beautiful, why would she hide? The smell of roses gave her away, oh you beauty, where are you running off to? As if a mute, she ignored. I followed her, a right and left, two lefts and a right, a right and two more rights. Is she lost? Near a stream she stopped,four vials she carried and she left the veil behind. Did she transform? Maybe, like a caterpillar into a butterfly. But she had no wings!

Walking down with her head held high, she felt wanted. Wait now, you can't have that perfect walk, she stole too much of my beauty whispered nature. Wind started blowing and the clouds thundered, the pitter-patter of the raindrops, the people rejoiced at the sight and sound of rain and she raced for a shelter. The potion of "beauty" trickled from her face and was left with a thick paste. She wiped her face clean, emerged a striking site of beauty which I never saw before, without the cherries and the roses, she was a goddess. 

She cried and cursed at the rain, "Could you not wait, I am not beautiful anymore" But beautiful you were born, I said. Leave me alone, you child. Beauty is what was washed away, I am nothing without it, and she ran away

Hearing her cries I smiled, Too blind to see what she has. Indeed beauty lies in the beauty parlor.