The Short Story Experience: OUR INNER VOICES

Just get it. I sigh, slipping a finger into the space between my jeans and my belly. I should stop this delli escapades, stress-eating will not help my degree. Nor the fitting of my clothes. Come on. Who cares? You could use a few more pounds, anyway. Just get it. I sigh again as I pay for the chocolate muffin and latte. My inner voice always wins, somehow. That and the chocolate muffins of the coffee shop in this corner. They make the half-mile walk from my apartment totally worth it. Notice: JavaScript is required for this content.

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