Not Feeling It

Walking by the general store, Juana Sanchez caught sight of her reflection in a barrel of rain water and stopped. She couldn't resist taking a better look after the day she'd had. The bullring had been especially brutal today despite the autumn weather. What should have been an easy exhibition showing her skill as a maestro had become a test of endurance instead as the bull repeatedly survived wounds that had felled bigger opponents than him. Such days made for bad shows and bad shows meant few tips and no victory drinks bought by adoring fans.

However, the woman who looked back at her didn't carry any of the marks she was looking for—she certainly didn't look as worn out as she felt. Nor did she look her thirty two years. Parisian cremes and powders had worked twice as well on her complexion than anyone else in her family. If anything, she looked barely out of her twenties with tanned skin, luminous eyes, and full lips.

“Not bad for an old nag, que va!” She said, distorting her reflection with a splash.