I saw my friend, but she didn't look like my friend. Something was different. Actually, everything was different. She was now taller than me, had more lip, less eyebrow, two more cup sizes and one less chin. The little scar on her forehead from riding her bike into a tree when we were six was missing, and her waist had returned. She raised a hand to wave, and I was startled. She was trying to smile, but her laugh lines had vanished. Her plastic surgeon thinks with a bit more work she'll be perfect. Perfection must be different for friends.