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FUN A DAY 2019 #3: Elizabeth

[CW: food/eating mention; hunger/skinniness] // In her adopted country, or rather, the country where she’d been deployed, she was a ‘hot mom’; it was apparently somehow contradictory be a wife and m more...

[CW: food/eating mention; hunger/skinniness]
//
In her adopted country, or rather, the country where she’d been deployed, she was a ‘hot mom’; it was apparently somehow contradictory be a wife and mother of two in her early forties, working and raising her kids in an affluent suburb, and to also be deemed an attractive woman. She did have a pretty, youthful face, and a compact, athletic body, she wasn’t too short, and she wasn’t too tall. One could also simply describe her as ‘skinny,’ or thin, which seemed to be especially valuable in this country. She couldn’t be entirely sure what the people back in her home country would make of her, but she felt certain that she wouldn’t be a ‘hot mom’ there. Or maybe that was something she just needed to believe.
//
The best word to describe her was lean. She wasn’t an athlete; she was wiry and muscular like a dog that had never been anyone’s pet, and got plenty of exercise living on the street, and traveling the neighborhood in search of kind strangers with spare table scraps, or at the very least, dumpsters full of discarded but edible food. At home, they’d know this, she’d thought. She dreamed of being there, and of one friends and neighbors who looked at her and invited her over for lunch or dinner, and said, “Here, would you like some more? I made plenty, help yourself…” instead of saying things like, “You look great, you’ve got to tell me your secret!”
//
She dressed her lean body, all bones and muscles that seemed to be tensed at all times, in rich wools and silks and leather and occasionally cashmere, garments and fabrics so luxurious that she’d never dreamed of touching them with her own hands, much less having a closet full of clothes made from them. She’d learned to act as if she took having decent clothes for granted; it was part of her cover. Everything was a cover, a disguise, something that wasn’t really her, whoever that might be. But she learned to pass as an ordinary woman, to blend in with her neighbors and with the other moms whose kids went to the local public school. She was pleasant, always polite, and quick to defuse any thing that could turn into any kind of situation with a quick laugh, a self-deprecating joke, and an offer to help, to drive, to activate the phone tree, to bring the brownies, whatever the fvck it was that day. But she mostly avoided interactions with other moms and families, using her paying job as an excuse when she could, and hiding behind the convenient belief that a woman was supposed to spend all of her time either with or doing some kind of house work for her husband and children.
//
She did prefer to be at their house, though, whether alone or with her husband, and with their kids in another room, within earshot but unable to see her. She could be herself then: thoughtful, quietly hungry for intimacy and capable of genuine tenderness, but far more comfortable with utter ruthlessness in pursuit of her cause; guarded. She had experienced little more than loss, a pattern of life-shattering trauma followed by incomprehensible sacrifice, or as she thought of it, service. She was remarkably difficult to access, but certainly not impossible to reach. She very badly wanted to be herself, to be seen for who and what she was, to be known. She wanted nothing more than to go home. ...less

A playlist by
livelyandcolorful
7 tracks
  • 30min
  • 21
  • 6 weeks ago