Wearing Pink  − 29 April, 2008

Her face is red, her hair is mousy brown. She is wearing whitish shorts, pink and orange ankle socks, a pink t-shirt too large for her shoulders and chest.

She is shy and not very confident in her moves. She subscribed to the gym after her husband dumped her for a younger woman. Oh, she's not old. She's in her forties but he did have an affair with a thirtysomething "girl" and then decided he wanted to marry Her. The kind of "girl" who wears high heels to go grocery shopping, lots of makeup even to stay home and dyes her hair baby blonde.

She steps along to the music, her arms like chicken wings, her tempo not quite up there with the rest of the class.

When class is over, she changes in a curtained cubicule, ashamed of her body while the rest of the women change out there aware of the others but not looking.

The she goes home to her poodle and a dinner of salad with no dressing, pasta with butter and lemon. As a luxury she adds fresh pepper to it and eats a Subway cookie immediately feeling guilty. Because she still hopes he comes back so she can return to her knitting, watching TV and not going to the gym.