Once Charity

There once was a girl named Charity whose life had been, for a brief moment in time, perfect. She had been young and beautiful at a time when being young and beautiful mattered most. The eye and heart of a young man had been captured by her charms, and a pathway to a bright and loving future had been set before her.

And then a change occurred. Another young person, a man named Tim, had foolishly made a deal with powers he did not comprehend. The life of Charity, the pleasure of the present, the felicity of the future, was stolen. Ripped away from her in the blink of an eye.

And she never noticed.

Instead, Charity’s life continued, tied to a new person, to that of the young man. She was left with his leavings.

Gone was the love of her life. Gone was the admiration of others. Gone was the excitement of the future.

Charity, who now thought of herself as Tim, rode the bus alone. She sat in silence, each bump on the road saying her large, unbound breasts to bounce, increasing her annoyance as she lamented her lot in life.

Alone.

That was what she was.

Nancy, her crush, still remained disinterested. The degree she has been so excited for two years ago seemed pointless. All she had to look forward to in life was the assuredness of monotony.

She had seen it before. Young men like her, going through the motions, earning degrees that opened their eyes to a world of possibility, only to have the reality of student debt **** them into mindless drone careers, pushing buttons, growing older, making other people rich.

Her cousin Steve, ten years her senior, had been so full of hope and possibility. She remembered looking up to him when she had been a young boy. When he earned his bachelor’s degree in art history, she had been sure he would change the world, write a book, make an impact. Instead she watched him diminish. Soon after leaving school, Steve took a job working at a large insurance company. Now, years later, he was still there. She couldn’t remember the last time he even spoke about art movements or went to a gallery.

Maybe she should resign herself to her future. She scratched her short cropped red hair and considered it. Perhaps there was more to life than ambition. She was relatively in shape. Sure, her hips were a bit wide, and her breasts were sizeable, but her stomach was thin and toned, and her skin was clear. If she kept her head down, finished school, and got a job that, while it wasn’t interesting, paid the bills, maybe she could attract a wife that liked her for her stability, her reliability. Sure, she wouldn’t be one of those big-titted hotties that she secretly pictured when she got herself off on particularly lonely nights, but it would be a comfortable relationship. Something she could depend on.

The Tim that was once Charity sighed. It wasn’t much, but if she ignored her dreams, it might be enough. A man like her didn’t get to pick her destiny. She knew that she should be satisfied with what she gets.