Emily Long
“Would you like cream with your large sugar water?” said the lady at the register.
“Yes, but except for the grounded sugar, can you put liquid sugar in there?—-
OH! And I’ll also have some baked dough with your processed-strawberry-frosted-flavored-sugar-milk and tiny sprinkles of food dye on top.”
“That’ll be three dollars and thirty-seven cents.”
Katrina reaches inside her pocket. She is paying with all change today.
Maybe she should have thought about this a little earlier.
Katrina fumbles while the sudden anxiety of having to hurry as the other idler beings waiting in line grow increasingly impatient.
Ah! Finally! She smacks her change onto the table.
The worker is not pleased, but remains unscathed.
This happens more often than one would think.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
She takes a brief moment for herself as she now waits for sugar water.
Today is the same as it always is, however, there is one exception.
Katrina is one pound less.
She felt it was okay to celebrate a little–to treat herself if you will.
Only this is not a treat.
Her trip to the Donut Shop is a daily ritual.
Deep down she knew this was her demise.
“Sugar water with liquid sugar and a processed-strawberry-flavored-sugar-milk-frosted-baked-dough-bite with sprinkles of food dye,” calls out the barista.
Katrina looks around.
She waits a moment to see if the other bystanders move forward to claim their order.
No?
She grabs her source of nourishment for the day.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Katrina goes to the car and struggles to get herself situated in the front seat. As she’s gotten wider it’s harder to get herself in the front seat. She attempts to wrap the seatbelt comfortably around her body. She’s already exasperated from the seventy-eight degree weather.
The sun is really blazing today. This seatbelt really needs to be fixed. All these things she told herself.
Combined with the activity of having to run errands, feeling weary at the start of her typical day.
Nothing unusual there. This dam seatbelt! It may as well be ninety degrees!
Katrina turns to the side. She’s continues to pull the nonexistent fabric vigorously from the already maximized length of her seatbelt. Unintentionally her midbody hits the horn of the vehicle. The piercing sound is heard across the lot.
This isn’t difficult for other people. They don’t have this problem. All these things she told herself.
Katrina hits the steering wheel with two fists.WHY!
She gives up briefly and takes a bite of her item.
Nothing unusual there. This soothes her for a quick instant. She takes a sip.