Bell, Mom's best friend in the neighborhood.Sara lived the next street over, down a few houses from our back yard. When she learned of the dressing ch...nge issue, Mrs. Bell quickly volunteered to stop in around noon each day to change it.Boy, was I happy!Sara was a statuesque gal, her red hair cut in a short bob. She'd had two c***dren and, though a little wide in the hips, had somehow maintained a fantastic figure. Her best attribute, aside from her little turned-up nose and full lips, was her. There's always that, although neither of us believes it. We've spent too much time talking and found too many things in common. The question of me liking him never came up, at least not to me. Not until now. How easy it is to slip into the old me. I stand in front of my mirror, naked and twisting and turning, and admiring how she still fits. I imagine I can see the old cuts; the old scars when they were fresh and new. The soft scabs that washed away in the bathtub, leaving soft pink and white. More

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