Aftermath
I whip out fake smile reserved for
Monday mornings, cheerleaders
Stepmoms
Kara stitches series of mom-esque words
Forming dubious praise
“Your face is so pretty this morning”
= You look fat
“I made egg white omelets and wheat toast”
= So you will no longer be fat
“It’s nice out. You should walk home today.”
= So you can be less fat
Kara is stuck
With me
Shay Summers: pretty-faced fat girl who
Reads. Writes. Thinks.
Too much
Dad died
Selfish, Dad, very selfish.
“Don’t be late for school”
= Don’t stay behind, pig out, get more fat
Flashes her best fake smile
The one she keeps in the freezer
So that it stays
Frozen
In
Place
“See you later”
Finally alone, I call on my friends:
Breakfast burrito. Banana cream pie. Butter.
They are all missing
There’s been a massacre
Kara’s soldiers:
Fat-free
Sugar-free
Reduced
Lite
Skim
Wiped out all my friends
Not even condiments
Remain
I recall
My love
Could it survive savage, unprovoked attack?
Scour area
Attempt rescue
No survivors
Rest in peace,
Apple-wood bacon
Flash of red packaging
Resembles my lover’s face
A prayer
A hope
Fragile but real
Pull in closer
Oscar Mayer Bacon!
Turkey bacon?
All is lost . . .