Fiction & Creative
By Nora Chery
Volume 1 Issue 6
March 18, 2021
Image provided by the Food Network
Sophia let out an exhale when she plumped down on her chair. She sat there, quickly gathering as much oxygen as she could, then releasing it inside the small space of her kitchen. She used her left forearm to wipe the sweat from her forehead, though the rest of her body was coated with it, staining the red baggy shirt she was wearing. When her session of heavy breathing had somewhat dampened, she shot out a huff of annoyance. She was, once again, disappointed with herself; a minuscule time of eight minutes and she already felt like she was running a 24-hour long marathon.
“It’s such a challenge to lose even a pound”, she thought to herself, making a trip to the refrigerator.
She reached down, her hand passing the chocolate pudding and the left-over butterscotch cinnamon pie for the container spinach-kale salad. Grabbing a plastic fork, she sat down on her chair and sunk the fork into the salad. She took small bites and munches; the salad tasted decent enough, but it didn’t compare to the sweet smell that caught her attention. Sophia immediately froze when she noticed who the smell belonged to. So, she’s still here.
The heels of her shoes clicked across the tiled floor, making their way towards the backside of Sophia. No doubt it was her - Dulcetta. Her soft chest leaned on the space of Sophia’s back, her chin resting on her shoulders. A long slow exhale through the nose let out cinnamon sugar scent. It had nearly made her betray her promise, to herself, of keeping a calm composure.
“Are you forgetting someone, Sophia?” Her breathy honeyed voice asked, sinking her weight.
Sophia kept her focus on the salad, gulping slowly. Dulcetta was brightly gorgeous with soft lips, people of any preference, would dream of kissing. Her body in a beautifully designed dress with unconscious elegance, Sophia knew why she had come.
“No” Sophia had replied lowly, “I don’t — I don’t think so.”
“Cleary... you’ve forgotten about me,” she soothed.
Dulcetta placed her thin pointer and thumb under Sophia’s plump chin, giving a somewhat stern squeeze. Just as Sophia’s body did not do any sort of action, her salad abandoned. She was once again relentlessly breathing hard, as she tried to make herself uncomfortable under the sweet woman’s grip.
Dulcetta barely noticed or even cared.
“You’ve always started and continued the day with me,” she said calmly “I’m a bit hurt.”
Sophia’s stomach churned, as she gulped, the smell was becoming more and more intoxicating; Dulcetta smirked.
“Not now... not anymore,” uttered Sophia “I’m-I’m going to change, and I can’t have you waltzing around in my life, ruining it.”
Dulcetta’s grip on Sophia’s chin grew tighter.
“Oh, darling no — darling c’mon, you don’t mean that,” Dulcetta stated sweetly.
“You don’t want to change, you don’t want that salad, you want me. And I want you because you’re my little piggy.”
Sophia said nothing. She only looked down at her spinach-kale salad, her large chunky body shifted. The salad didn’t seem all at that decent. She felt her pudgy face turn towards Dulcetta’s smiling face.
“Who’s my little piggy?” Dulcetta asked as she leaned over for a kiss.
“I am.” Sophia muttered
Sophia leaned down to take a bite of her butterscotch cinnamon pie. It’s such a challenge to lose even a pound, she told herself, cutting out another piece. But I can always start another day.