Back in the day, when her hair was black and her skin was smooth, thirty was old. Really old.
Then she got busy. Life happened and time moved on. Thirty passed when she wasn’t looking, and then forty, and then (yikes!) fifty, and then, looking back, thirty seemed young. So young.
Today her hair is grey and her skin is lined with life, but inside she still feels just the same as she did back in the day, when her hair was black.
Maybe grey is the new black, she thought. Maybe sixty is the new thirty.
Or maybe not…