The contest begun. The visage that remains inconspicuous the longest wins. Only a few seconds had passed when my opponent folded. The mysterious hue of green returned. Quivering, withholding either tear or rage.  Unwilling to glance upon these eyes with disdain, I darted my gaze... examining the scenery.  Blades of light exposed the holes behind the recklessly applied plaster. The ceiling's aeration was less covert. Mildewed reams of pink insulation struggled to remain snug between the exposed rafters. Drip, drip, drip... apparently neither the roof nor the pipes were sealed properly. In disbelief, I stepped  back toward the defeated- balancing my weight across the rotting floor boards. Our eyes locked once again. "You must not cry," I reminded her. She nodded in agreement, wiping away the remnants of weary eyes.  A deep sigh for the sake of composure, and then her reflection faded from view.  Grasp, pull, step through... and off we go, back into reality's facades - where every room cries out for repair, and every face longs for release.