What an amazing post. I just had to share.
Chelsea Beach 1946, by Renee Fisher
I am huge. My face is round and puffy. My ankles are swollen. My breasts, generous under normal circumstances, are almost comical in their inflated condition. My belly, while large, is of lesser protrusion than my breasts. This gives me a look, not so much of pregnancy, as of advancing years. I am twenty-four years old and I appear matronly. I look in the mirror and shut my eyes in disbelief. I have become my own mother and grandmother. I am three generations in one flowered smock, a two-legged family tree.
I was married a mere 14 months ago, in a size four gown of heavy white parachute silk. The fabric created to bring soldiers safely to the ground, now brought me toward Harry, the man I married. Newly returned from the war, handsome in a khaki uniform. For the last three years…
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