Opposite her, Jessica munched on her third chocolate digestive of the morning. It was so unfair how Jessie managed to scoff all that food, never visit a gym, avoid aerobics and never had to try a slim fast.
May licked her lips and felt she could actually taste that chocolate, crunch the invisible biscuit with her teeth and as she chewed in her mind she could feel the liquidised chocolate coating the inside of her mouth and cling comfortingly to the inside of her throat.
Unless she didn't eat, there was not way she'd loose that flab of fat that sat satisfied on her stomach, and there would be no possibility of wearing the size ten dress she'd bought for the party in two weeks time. She'd tried everything from salads to soups and shakes to sachets of unknown substances.
It wasn't that she was unattractive. If she smiled she could be comparatively pretty. She was tired of smiling, especially when she looked at herself in the mirror.
It was only 11.00 am, she'd had three cups of tea. Surely she wasn't hungry. Her hands spanned across the vast expanse of her stomach, pressing, only gently, in the hope that it would push in and give her the negative existence of a stomach that she saw every day on models on posters and in magazines, and on the young skinny waif-like girly on the train in suits that would fall off them if only the shops would stop catering for them by making clothes look like they'd fit five year olds. Tiny skimpy tops in allegedly stretching material which only stretched to elasticate around her frumpy frame, showing and accentuating all the curves which she'd much rather cover up and shroud in floppy, baggy T-shirts and elasticated waisted jeans or track suits. But maybe she'd become a victim of fashion and felt she had to keep up, while she was still young enough to wear these clothes, before she had to wear the knee length, floral motif dresses of responsible, motherly characters whom she could see parading the street every day from her window. A colony of worker ants flushed in before nine am, followed by the drowsy clusters who strolled around shopping of pacing the streets with prams and push chairs.
Jessica picked out her fourth chocolate topped disk of calories. That was how May had to picture it in her mind. If she saw it as a blob of fat that would soak itself into her mass of grossness on her body and would glup and fester there. No it didn't work, nothing on earth could put her off her chocolate, even if they discovered it had some Mad Chocolate Disease, she wouldn't stop her consumption. She'd managed to cope without steaks and burgers though. What was it with this illusive substance? The addictive drug that was the easiest and tastiest to devour. She'd lived two days now without chocolate. Surely she could survive another.
From her computer terminal, she could see a woman in her late fifties, wobbling on stumpy legs twice the girth of one of May's, stumbling in ankle length fur lined beige boots and tights which really didn't go with her skin complexion. Her breasts blended into her belly which protruded and hung over the waist band on her knee length floral skirt with co-ordianted baggy shirt. "Please, please, don't let me ever look like that." May wished to herself after glancing at the woman's multiple chin.
"Stabbing at her stomach once more as it made an attempt to murmur a plea to feed it, she decided she could wait until lunch time for a delicious and nutritious cup-a-soup, and returning to her monitor and typing.
