A Fat Lot Of Good

Written for Flash Fiction Friday, hosted by Sarah Faxon.

I used both prompts

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“You're fat.”

That's when it began for Sandy. When Myra Ellison-Bailey rebuffed her greeting and she chased her down to ask why.

“That's it? That's why you've been looking right through me or past me whenever I let on to you?”

“I don't want to talk to you, Sandy. I shouldn't have to explain it. Now…” She shook her head. “Run along.”

Sandy stood gaping while the words ‘run along’ ran along. Myra’s footsteps faded away as she mouthed the words “But we were friends” at her former friend’s retreating back. It hurt. It really, truly, deeply hurt.

Okay, fine.

It wasn't fine.

Those two words, that statement burned into Sandy's mind as a creed. A certainty. A fact. The bathroom scales needed not to be consulted; her saggy overhanging belly confirmed it. Sandy Hill was more of a mountain, really.

Okay, fine.

It wasn't fine.

Innumerable diets had been tried and failed. Pills, potions, and supplements. Electric belts and massagers that promised to break down belly fat but broke instead. There was, however, one thing she hadn't tried: Botampac. This stuff was all the rage among celebrities. Their stick limbs and lollipop heads testified to its effectiveness. Actually, Myra's slender figure might owe something to Botampac. So it was decided; Sandy would get Botampac. So she did.

.

Six weeks later, Sandy saw Myra again. There was less of her this time. Stick-thin legs below the hem of a dress that flapped around her skinny thighs. “Myra!”

Myra gave her a glassy gaze.

“You're thinner.”

“You're thinner.”

“Shall we go and get a coffee?”

“No. I'm busy.” Her lifted upper lip revealed a gap.

Sandy stared.

“What are you staring at?”

“Your tooth.”

Myra slapped a bony hand over the left side of her face and fled.

Pouting as she watched her former friend retreat, Sandy concluded that, while it was good to be able to fit more comfortably into her jeans, it wouldn't do to take it too far. She shrugged. There was no point chasing something that was never real. “Oh, Myra,” she said softly as the other woman vanished around a corner. “Fat lot of good those diet pills have done you. Your personality fell out with that tooth.” Then she realised what she had said.

People stared as she walked away laughing.