Harriet stared at herself in the mirror. The thick wrapped dress did nothing to soften the bulging stomach or bloated thighs. She frowned at her image and slipped the dress off again. Hanging back up carefully she got dressed in her sweat pants and baggy t-shirt. She walked out and hanged the dress back to the attendent.
"Oh dear," the thin stick-figured woman said, "It didn't work out?"
Harriet pasted a polite smile on her face and shook her head. She kept her eyes down as she left the store, hands shoved deep into her pockets, shoulders hunched forward. Even her car shook as she sat down. She sat staring at the silver foil of her sun reflector. She felt normal once. She wasn't always this size. She had confidence, or at least less self conscience.
She drove home quickly. Walking into her apartment she went directly to her bedroom and changed into her most flattering top and suit pants. Then she stood in front of a full length mirror and stared at her body critically. She had luscious cuves that gave her body character and definition. Her eyes were a molton grey framed by deep black lashes. Her arms and thighs were firm. Her hair was luminous and curly. She sighed and smiled. She was okay just the way she was.
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