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A fiction exercise: Woman at 50something

December 12, 2008 By pia

My best friend’s plane left three hours late. She brought her daughter’s phone charger. Fortunately I knew this when said daughter called cursing. I made her laugh which isn’t hard as I’ve been making her laugh since infancy.
My best friend sounded like a foghorn. My nose is stuffed. I hope she doesn’t hate me. I know how stupid that sounds. I can’t control what I have no control over.
She arrived. She’s sick. I’m scared to go to sleep as I’m convinced that I won’t be able to breathe

Sami looked at her reflection in the Michael Graves for Target tea kettle that was actually nicer than the Michael Graves megabucks tea kettle she had once owned.

She hoped her reflection was similiar to one in a fun house mirror. She looked obese, gross, the opposite of everything she had once been.

Sami didn’t know why people still liked her. Did she know a city filled with people who had excess grace and dignity and would never kick a woman when she she should be under a doctor’s knife?

Out of the corner of the tea kettle she saw him. He was smiling; that smile that had set her body ablaze so many years ago and still did.

I am fat. I am ugly. Leave me for a younger woman. Somebody who deserves your love.

He took her in his arms and she forgot to hate herself.

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Comments

  1. Shayna says

    December 14, 2008 at 2:21 am

    Hey!!! I feel that way now and I’m only 31! This body ain’t what it use to be…

  2. Sunday says

    December 14, 2008 at 3:25 pm

    It seems to be more like that for me everyday as well.

  3. one more believer says

    December 15, 2008 at 4:18 pm

    hi pia, it sure is good to come by and see you… it’s been awhile… 50 something is sorta right on being on the other half of 50 something myself… and feelin like 35… thaz a good thing if anybody cares… it’s a wonderful life of writing… take care… renee

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About Me

I live in the South, not South Florida, a few blocks from the ocean, and two blocks from the main street. It's called Main Street. Amazes me too.

I'm from New York. I mostly lived in the Mid-Upper East Side, and the heart of the Upper West Side. It amazes me when people talk about how scared they were of Times Square in the 1970's and 1980's.

As my mother said: "know the streets, look out and you'll be fine."

What was scary was the invasion of the crack dens into "good buildings in good 'hoods." And the greedy landlords who did everything they could to get good tenants out of buildings.

I'm a Long Island girl, and proud of it now.
Then I hated everything about the suburbs. Yet somehow I lived in a few great Long Island Sound towns after high school.

Go to archives "August 2004" if you want to begin with the first posts.

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