There once was a woman who underneath her clothes was always naked. From when she was a little girl, she grew into and out of pants and skirts and shirts and dresses that never really fit. To all she did appear quite proper and composed, though only she truly knew her secret. She tried on different people as she changed and sometimes turned to diets, grapefruit or sometimes chocolates, to make them fit…
Some were too tight and at the end of every day her head would ache from the slow and steady restricting bands of pressure. Some were too big and loose and she would float around inside without a purpose, unnoticed, dreamlike as if a bubble in a level never held straight out.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology