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Sara was in her viewing chair, watching the television, reading her diet book and rationing the chocolates to herself. She read the introduction and then skimmed and skipped through the various chapters dealing with the need to be the proper weight, the charts that showed the proper weight for each height, the charts that showed the incidence of various disease with pounds and percentage of overweight. It was a case of lose weight or suffer a lingering and ignoble death. Then came the chapter that proved why this method was superior to all other methods and how the chemical balance created in the body from this diet would force the body to burn its fat and the pounds would melt away like ice in the sun. That sounds nice. Maybe tomorrow I/ll get some sun. She continued to read and finally started skipping pages, I believe already, but wheres the diet???? At last. After almost a hundred pages she came to the diet. FIRST WEEK. She took the entire page in at once. She blinked, then sectioned it off and looked at it. It didn’t change. Then she read it. Line by line she read the entire page. It remained the same. She rummaged around, without looking, in the chocolate box for a chocolate covered caramel and chewed and sucked on it as she continued to stare at the page in disbelief.
BREAKFAST
1 hard boiled egg
1/2 grapefruit
1 cup black coffee (no sugar)
LUNCH
1 hard boiled egg
1/2 grapefruit
1/2 cup lettuce (no dressing)
1 cup black coffee (no sugar)
DINNER
1 hard boiled egg
1/2 grapefruit
1 cup black coffee (no sugar)
NOTE: Drink at least 2 quarts, 64 oz., 8 8oz. glasses of water each day.
Sara continued to stare and chew. She looked very carefully between the lines having heard that that was where the real information was. Every night on the news that nice young man with the mustaches and glasses, always said, “Reading between the lines it becomes obvious that what was really said is…” She looked. She stared. She held the book at various angles, but all she could see was white paper. Then it finally penetrated. She slapped her forehead. Such a klutz. If this is the first week then there’s something different for the second week. Of course. They keep adding food. Thats what it is. She quickly turned the page and stared… it was the same. Exactly the same. Why would— Ach, so thats the difference. She looked very carefully at the luncheon menu for the second week and it was different. The egg was replaced with a 4 oz. meat patty, broiled. She quickly looked at the third week menu. The meat patty was replaced with 4 oz. of fish, broiled. She dropped the book on her lap and reached over for another chocolate. Any kind of chocolate. She stared at her set. How could that be? How could you eat only that? A mouse would starve already on that. She felt hollow inside. A profound sadness started to pervade her being. Her head started to hang forward and she had to raise her eyes in order to see the screen. She felt forlorn, utterly devastated and alone. Absolutely alone. Completely alone. Her throat was constricting and tears were rapidly building up behind her eyes. She kept blinking them back and then she noticed herself dressed in her red dress, her hair a gorgeous red, walking across the screen, so slim, so trim, so sexy. Such curves. How many years now since she had such curves? Who can remember? When she first met Seymour she had curves. She was firm then. Thats right, firm. Curvy. O how Seymour used to look. And touch. He used to tell me how all his friends envied him I was so beautiful. Zophtic. Thats what I was, zophtic. She watched herself stand with the a
Harry and Marion got off on the last of his stuff and made it on the couch grooving behind the high and the music. There was a softness in the music that they automatically focused on, a softness in the light that glowed from the top and the bottom of the shades and glowed in widening circles, and filtered through the multicolored sides of the shades and ever so gently pushed the darkness into the far corners and soothingly coated the room with a hint of color that was friendly to their eyes; and there was a kindness and tenderness in their attitudes as they held each other and turned their heads to avoid blowing smoke in each others face; even their voices were low and gentle and seemed a part of the music. Harry was brushing the hair back from Marions forehead, noticing how the dim light reflected from the perfect blackness of her hair and made the outline of her nose and high cheekbones seem to shimmer. You know something? Ive always thought you are the most beautiful woman Ive ever seen. Marion smiled and looked up at him, Really? Harry nodded and smiled, Since the first time I met you. Marion reached up and caressed his cheek with the tips of her fingers and smiled tenderly, Thats nice Harry. Her smile broadened, That really makes me feel good. Harry chuckled, Good for your ego, eh? Well I cant say that it does it any harm, but thats not what I mean. It makes me feel good all over, like… well, you know lots of people tell me things like that and its meaningless, completely meaningless. You mean because you think theyre putting you on? No, no, nothing like that. I dont know or care if they are. I guess maybe they really mean it, but from them, Marion shrugged, it just doesnt mean anything to me. They can be the most sincere person in the world and I feel like asking them what that has to do with the price of coffee, you know what I mean? Harry nodded and smiled, Yeah… She looked into Harrys eyes for a moment, feeling the tenderness in her look, But when you say it I hear it. You know what I mean? I really hear it. It has meaning to me. I mean, like its important and I not only hear it, but I believe it with all of me… and it makes the i