Just Walk Away
Caroline looked longingly at the chocolate-frosted cake, thinking about how much she really wanted to fill her mouth with chocolaty goodness. For the past ten weeks, she had gone without any sweets; she ignored the endless inducements of cookies, brownies, pastries, pies, and cakes that surrounded her. She thought they were deliberately taunting her, attempting to break her from her strict diet. Rather than satisfying her taste buds with sugar-infested galore, she was instead munching on dry baby carrots. She crossed her flabby arms over her stomach as it began to growl.
Man, that cake looks so yummy, she thought to herself. No, look away. That is not your friend, Caroline. That is your enemy.
She had lost about 30 pounds and she sure as hell wasn’t planning on gaining it back. Okay, now just walk away. If I walk away, I’ll be fine, she assured herself. She took a small step away from the glass display of decorated cakes. She hesitated before taking another step. Before she knew what was happening, she was dashing along Main Street. Cars blurred past her as the wind whipped her hair back from her face, bringing tears to her hazel eyes. Her breathing became raspy and her sides began to ache, but she continued to weave between pedestrians, putting more distance between her and the swirls of chocolate frosting. When she was far enough away, she breathed a sigh of relief. She had a doctor’s appointment in about a half an hour and the last thing she needed was to add an extra two pounds beforehand.
She strolled along the sidewalk, her breath visible in the cool, crisp air. Cars honked and engines roared furiously as Caroline passed by the lines of lofty buildings. Truck-sized advertisements loomed over her head, their lights flashing in the dimness. Her boots shuffled along in the snow, imprinting it with dirt-stained footprints. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the downtown hospital.