Fat Girl Walking

I'm so fat. I decided this evening to go for a walk. I don't often have energy, but I thought I might make the block at least. I put on my shoes and hit the road. All the neighbors' dogs barked as I walked past their yards alerting their masters to something outside. Curtains were moved and blinds adjusted as people thought to themselves, "Oh, it's just that fat girl walking."

There were actually two fat girls walking but they could only see one. Mental Fat Girl was inside Physical Fat Girl. Mental Fat Girl was always there; even when Physical Fat Girl wasn't. I only just realized this on this particular walk. I knew other Physical Fat Girls...but they weren't all accompanied by Mental Fat Girl. They could believe in their inner beauty and they shone because of it. I also knew Mental Fat Girls whose bodies I'd give a thigh for. They obsessed about every ounce and always beat themselves up. So how did I come to be both girls at once?

As I walked the block, I took notice of the surroundings and how they affected me. There was the vehicle behind me, driving slow and waiting for a good place for either me to move over or him to drive around me. He was thinking, "I could move around you NOW if you weren't such a fatty!" Wait. That was Mental Fat Girl talking. Maybe he was thinking, "Good for you, Girl. I'm fine. Walk on!" I picked up my step. It was nice to think of him being an encouragement.

I met the elderly ladies who walk their little dogs every evening. In the past, on those rare occasions I'd walked before, I'd always look forward to running into them. They always wanted to visit and it was a great excuse to stop and rest. But wait. That's Physical Fat Girl talking. You don't get to rest, Fatso! I told the ladies I absolutely couldn't stop until I was at least three sizes smaller. They all smiled and pumped their fists and gave me a lot "that a girl" and "you can do it"! Wow! Discipline was good. I picked up my step.

I passed the "good ole boy" house. Always three or four guys in cowboy hats and jeans were standing by their pick-up trucks talking. They stopped talking as I approached. They simply stared quietly and waited until I was all the way to the corner to resume talking. They were thinking, "Good grief! She's a COW!" Wait. That's Mental Fat Girl again! No! It took me a bit to think of an alternative reason for their silence but then it hit me. They were simply giving me respect. They were thinking, "Good for you. Way to cowgirl up and take on your problems!" Yeah! I picked up my step.

I was nearing my house at this point. I'd gone the whole block. Three times around is a mile. I rarely did two times around. Usually, Fat Girls both wanted to waddle inside and be comforted by a husband who loves every inch of me unconditionally, by kids who see me as a hero, by clothes that stretch forgivingly. But, I decided it would be a lot easier to walk with one less girl. I spent the next round saying goodbye to Mental Fat Girl. I picked up my step.

As I neared my house again, I didn't even slow down. Mental Fat Girl was gone and Physical Fat Girl's days were numbered!

Fat Girl walked a mile this evening.

Fiction... PREFACE

Preface

She heard the noise as if it was right next to her. A breath, more a gasp than a simple intake of air. As she turned to find its origin, her hair, long and tangled with the leaves and brush she’d fallen in just minutes ago, swung around and encased her neck. She saw nothing but the woods around her. Never one to doubt her senses, Abby turned and ran even faster, if that was possible. As always, logic warred with the supernatural gift inside her mind and she wondered again if her senses were of the here and now or of some time and place in the future…the past? Were they even her senses or perhaps someone else’s, channeling in need of help. Logic said this was most likely the case. Abby had no enemies that she was aware of. No one even knew of her ability, her gift, her curse. No one besides those who had come and gone and received help from this strange and mystical girl.

This must still be part of the dream, she thought. Having awakened in the forest in the middle of the night, mid-run, she had not been startled. She was used to this type of thing and instantly began observing everything around her, not knowing what would end up being of any importance. The grass was wet, though she knew it hadn’t rained here in over three months. There was no light, no moon that she could see. Cloudy? Rainy? Future? Past? Not present. That was certain. This was part of the message. Her heart quickened surprisingly as she heard the gasp again. And, again, she whirled around to face nothing but trees and wet leaves. She took this moment to note that she was wearing, not her favored flannel pajamas, but a white satin nightgown that reached the forest floor and moved with a breeze around her ankles.
She assessed her senses, or rather the senses of whoever was sending her this vision. Fear. This woman was petrified. She was beyond caring about her indecency or her bare feet. She only wanted to run. It was hard for Abby to fight the other girl’s instincts. Her legs were begging her to move and move quickly. But she stood her ground, literally. She took in the smells around her and noticed that there was a hint of cologne in the air. This woman did not wear cologne, she knew it immediately. No, this was the scent of her pursuer. Was this a romantic tryst gone wrong? Why else would a girl be in the woods in the middle of the night wearing a nightgown and with the scent of men's cologne in the air.

Unless it was an attempted escape from something much more sinister than a simple lover’s meeting in the woods. The fear. The fear is what tipped Abby off to the sinister thoughts. Something had gone very wrong for this girl and she was now reaching out to Abby for help. “I’m trying,” Abby whispered.

Immediately, Abby’s eyes opened and she was in her own bed, warm, dry, and wearing her familiar pajamas. “That’s all I have to go on?” Abby sighed. Well, she’d had less. Sometimes a troubled soul was cautious in revealing things and Abby guessed that fear was the main motivator for her recent messenger. Abby sat up and, out of habit, looked at the clock. It was 5:44, one minute before her alarm would sound. Sometimes, the minute of her arrival back into consciousness meant something and she always made a mental note of it.