Little Black Dresses and Knobby Knees
Photography by Devon Butler
Sarah tried growing her hair out; flowing blonde locks glistening in the sun. But every time she did, the shafts would break off, leaving her with sandy inch-long fuzz. She tried fitting her breasts into the low cut dress she bought on a whim. But every time she did, her breasts would part, her nipples crawling toward her back. She tried to slide her legs into the sausage-casing hose she picked up to match the dress. But every time she attempted this, her kneecaps would clang together as her legs burned against the sun. She tried to fit into the mold of the heels, but every time she did, her ankles would spill over the sides. With each step, she pounded the weight of her body onto the loose flesh.
Sarah desperately tried all this so that they would stop looking at her curiously, laughing at her maniacally and teasing her relentlessly. She would watch them, their pretty smiles and smooth cuticles; how easy it all was. But it would be days, months and years before she learned that it was she who was to stop.