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S M A L L
BY STEPHANY AULENBACK

A man sits on the sidewalk outside my apartment building, making tiny decorative chairs. He constructs them out of bits of tin, tangled wire, and scraps of leftover Goodwill velvet. They perch elegantly on his grey wool blanket. He asks me to buy one whenever I pass by.

This morning when I woke up the walls of my apartment were closer together. I went into the bathroom and the mirror was too small to see into. Iíve lost a lot of weight, but my clothes are feeling tighter. I know that they plan to demote me at work. They know I know, I know it. Soon theyíll move me out of my cubicle and into a cardboard box. And this person Iíve been dating, well, he seems suddenly very short.

Have I made my life too little? Should I save myself a seat?
 
 
 

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