Once, the belt hadn’t had quite so far to travel, and her legs hadn’t been quite so jiggly, or her skin so fine and slack. Once, she’d been deliciously curvy, even though she’d wasted years despairing of her body, trying to wish and diet and Jazzercise the weight away; starving off the same ten or fifteen pounds that always came back, usually with friends. She’d been pretty back then, her skin smooth, hair shiny, eyes bright. These days, everything was dulled and faded, and every part of her body from her breasts on down had developed an unseemly droop. In clothes, or even in a swimsuit, she
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