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Two milkduds, a handful of raisins... something like a quarter cup of soy nuts... two prunes and an orange. A cup of licorice tea. And a graham cracker. The current contents of Helen's stomach would make a pommander ball weep with envy. This was eating for life, and she was all over it.
Harry would see. She'd drop those 40 pounds she'd gained over their stinky 6-year marriage and really stick it to him. Already she'd lost 4, just by cutting out cigarettes. Most people gained weight when they quit smoking; Helen was proving to be the exception to that rule. And she loved it. Waking up each day smoke-free. Glorious air flooding into her blackened lungs. It made her want to hug the world.
She swung open the door to Jenny Craig with a smile on her face. No, she was not the thinnest woman in the room, but, this was not a contest. She took a seat and flipped through O Magazine, making a mental note to tape Oprah's svelte self to her fridge later on.
A man in a white surgeon's outfit entered the room with a clipboard. "Helen?" he called.
Helen looked up to see the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. "That's me," she stammered, standing up to face him. "I get you?"
"Well, I've been assigned to you," he replied. He smiled then, but, Helen thought she'd seen the flicker of a frown on his face. A frown that he'd tried to suppress but had reared it's ugly head all the same. He doesn't want me, she thought. He wishes he had gotten one of these other not quite as fat ladies. Helen's self confidence shattered like a Ukranian easter egg and she began to sob and sputter uncontrollably.
Date Written: January 02, 2005
Average Vote: 3.6667