Sneak By Giselle Renarde –––––––– It wasn’t much to look at, inside or out, but this house had been a brothel of sorts for as long as Bess could remember. Only one woman here now, living alone—or so she thought. She didn’t know about Bess. At least, not yet. Ah, Loralee, so unassumingly pretty underneath that awful cake foundation, the false lashes, the dark shadow. The men only got to see her this way—made-up, falsified, cloaked in everything that wasn’t her. Her skirts were small, but her hair was big, teased and sprayed to retain its dimension. It wasn’t the real Loralee on that bed, just a body that looked somewhat like her. Cosmetics prevented the men, the adulterers and perverts, from seeing her true self. Loralee, pretty Loralee, was so vulnerable, so insecure, so unsure..