Even his books were filed away alphabetically in huge floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He remembered how she walked around the living room slowly, taking...in the plush slate gray sofa, the black coffee table and the white alpaca rug. When she saw the Al Held piece hanging near the dining area her interest was apparent, but otherwise her expression was difficult to read and he couldn’t surmise if she, too, felt that the place was too spartan. However, she’d hopped out of his place quickly enough. She continued to gain weight as she waddled clumsily through the aisles to her office. Her coworkers gave her a nod in acknowledgement, but gone were the admiring glances that she was used to, rather she received stares of indifference or mild disgust. No longer were the men opening the door for her. No whistles. She was an anonymous blob of a person. At least she was still a VP. She wobbled to her office and settled into her chair as she hit her full and final weight. The chair remolded around. More

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