My sixteen-year-old is perched on my bed, clutching her mug. My coffee cools while I dawdle about weighing myself before the appointment with the nutritionist.
“Hide your eyes,” I say, stripping off my underpants.
| precious little fictions in 500 words (or less). |
My sixteen-year-old is perched on my bed, clutching her mug. My coffee cools while I dawdle about weighing myself before the appointment with the nutritionist.
“Hide your eyes,” I say, stripping off my underpants.