Losing (Rachel)

“Losing (Rachel)” by Holly Sheidenberger

Rachel was compelled to focus on someone other than herself at all times.

Otherwise, she’d have to face her own demons.

Current target was Emily. At school pick-up, Rachel shot out of her car like a bullet.

“Emily…!” she wheedled. “You twiggy thing. Look at you, you’re getting to be skin and bones. No offense.”

Emily’s lips pressed into a tight smile, suppressing a saucy retort.

But Rachel couldn’t let it go.

“What are you, on some kind of a fad diet? I hope you’re not starving yourself,” said the meddler. “That’s a dangerous example for your daughter. Just sayin’. I saw this movie on TV about a perfectly normal girl who caught anorexia and almost died–“

Unsure how to defend herself for daring to change, Emily faltered.

Rachel pounced.

“Are you sure this is even safe? You look sallow. Girl, you need a sandwich–“

Emily edged away, leaving Rachel standing alone, embalmed in self-disgust.

Mr. Health Nut

“Mr. Health Nut” by Holly Sheidenberger

I hate people.

Not all. Just the ones I meet.

Precisely sixteen minutes exist between now and the fortune-making, business-breaking deal going down in the conference room with a crucial high-priority client. According to my boss.

And this jerk in line has already wasted four of those minutes trying to order a simple sandwich.

“Can I get that without kale? Or onions. Or garlic if you use it. And please leave off the carrot strips, that seems rather unusual on a san–“

I’ve had enough.

“Hey, give Mr. Health Nut here an egg salad on white since he’s apparently allergic to vegetables,” I yell at the cashier.

“To go. Stop wasting everyone’s time, Asshole.”

There’s barely time to inhale my banh mi pita and hustle straight to the conference room.

Everyone is already shaking hands with the client.

It’s Mr. Health Nut, a telltale speck of egg salad on his lapel.

Shit.