She is lying on her back on a towel spread on the grass. She is wearing only her underwear; an old black matching set, the cotton fabric bobbled in patches. Her skin is blinding white in the sun, flesh shining and sticky from sun-cream and slick with sweat. Her eyes are closed, one hand up on her face, shielding it from the sun.
At the sound of her name being called she its up and rubs her eyes awake. A fleshy white stomach folds over into three rings as she draws her knees up and leans heavily on her arm to push herself up. Her face is pale and drawn without a scrap of make up. Her eyes look naked and exposed, encircled by smudgy shadows. She yawns and looks around, face cracking into a huge smile that lights up her eyes with a sparkle.
She heads inside the house, bare feet padding softly over the tiled kitchen floor. Her hair is unwashed and greasy, held back with a grey headband. It has come loose and dark curly hairs frizz out of the ponytail in a halo. She pulls the band down over her head and readjusts it, smoothing the hairs back into place. As she bends over to unpack the freezer bags, white bosomy flesh spills over the sides of her bra. Several threads have come loose from the seams and flail about next to her skin. The bra is too small and the fabric cuts into her breast- beneath the black are angry red lines checked across her skin. The cup flips down, exposing a slice of pale pink areola and nipple, which she quickly tucks back in with a smile.
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