“I wish I could lose weight like you are,” she sighed. “What’s your secret?”
I looked at the ham sandwich in her hand, the fifth she’d eaten on her lunch hour, each impossibly filled with ham, tomatoes and cheese. Hiding somewhere in the mess had to be mayo and pickles; I could smell each hanging in the air. I shrugged.
She squinted her already squinty eyes sunken into her apple sized cheeks and frowned. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll get there one day.” As she bit down, a tomato fell out of her sandwich. She barely noticed.