Gristletoe

    Endless conversations equaled endless acne; the phone receiver held her chin hostage. Growing slopes of pale midsection were already a turn off, now last year’s sexy red Christmas lingerie barely contained bulging thighs. Stockings stuffed with Gym memberships and Dexatrim meant he wanted to talk about the problem. She wanted fruitcake and eggnog, not analysis. 



Word Count: 55