Fat

3 Nov

Oh my Gaga! This story over in the October issue of PANK (The Queer Issue) was mmm-mmm good. Strange how I never knew where it was taking me, but I was happy to be along for the ride. I’m usually partial to shorter non-fictions, but this one held onto me, and let me know it was going to show me something I wouldn’t want to miss.

“Three months later, the cocktail dresses that had been too tight weren’t even snug, and I had left James for a man with better drug connections who did not love me and so did not care that I was rushing into disaster.  I think we had sex all of the time, but I’m not sure.  The days from that year are a blur, the memories bruised and I never call this man by his name.  If I talk of him at all, I call him “my coke dealer.”  And when I think of him, I also think of James; who was kind and sweet and should have just let me grow fat.”

I could have missed that because of my sometimes literary ADD. Glad I didn’t.

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