Short Stories & Essays

Moria Matheson was fat. I know, you aren't supposed to say that, but she was. Just ask her. She was a giant, fat blob,  who was never good at anything except smiling in pictures looking like an engorged pig, not a micro pig either. Atleast, that's what her family and friends would joke about behind her back and, in a more playful way, to her face. She also often participated in the roasting. 

 

So Moria Matheson decided to hell with everyone. She was happy, she had her self respect, and she had this delicious carrot cake that she had made herself. She would move off the desolate, cold, botox infested Island of Manhattan and move to the trendy, up and coming, Roosevelt Island. 

 

Upon arrival, perhaps it was more 'up and coming' than trendy, but no matter. She had made her decision and would stick to it. Sure, everything closed rather early, but the high rises were luxurious, the park was manicured and the streets were quiet. Too quiet for some, but not for Moira Matheson, wh...

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June 7, 2016

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