She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. . Now the sense of beauty was spreading to a multitude of hitherto unsuspected aspects of the world about her. Her hips were wide and her athletic legs supported a very large rear end, which she flaunted by 140 wearing her gym shorts two sizes too small. It’s—it’s a social difference. For a while he threatened her. Too many. “I’ll be hanged if I do.
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