Footsteps approach as

the pliant wooden steps scream

blue murder.

They sag in defeat, then

rebound in joy as

the burden is grudgingly taken, then

gleefully lost.

It approaches, it approaches! The

immediate dent is felt, accompanied by

unrelieved excruciating pain, but

the heart-wrenching whimper she

hears naught of.

Her cumbersome frame - it

cannot be seen, hindered by

the omnipresent, oppressive shadow of

the heavy curtains of cellulite, encased by

the lining of damp cloth.

Like a fruit threatening to

explode, she wedges herself into

the largest couch in sight.

Oh, stop it, stop it! This

prolonged misery is unbearable! Not to mention

the stench of her unwashed, yellowed socks, so

acrid you can almost

taste sulfur in every

moist footprint left.

Alas! The suffering is resumed -

the blunted legs of the couch scar

yet another Colosseum into

the once flawless flooring, as

the piteous slate struggles to suspend

the ladies of the house.