The Fat Man Singeth

A SHORT STORY

I have an affection for what’s come to be known as the short short story, sometimes referred to as flash fiction. In May 2006 I was inspired by a relationship I observed and wrote this story.

Upon re-reading the story, I balked at publishing it here. We live in a hopefully more enlightened era in which we rightfully see people of all body types as entirely worthy of respect and love. Yet, I still think the story applies today since our culture remains awash in ultra thin, ultra buffed ideals spewed about on social media, advertisements, and entertainment media. Thus, I decided to go ahead and publish this story without edits and with its original title as it was written in 2006. I hope you enjoy it.

Maggie couldn’t remember when she finally really saw Alfred. They had been acquainted for so many years that when they finally did connect on a more intimate level the experience seemed natural, a logical progression. And while it’s true that Maggie never imagined for a minute that she might end up marrying a man like Alfred, she never questioned her decision. Alfred was a good man. Alfred was good to Maggie. Alfred was fat.

Yes, fat. A kinder description might be hefty, stocky, or some other euphemism for fat, but Alfred was quite clearly fat. He wasn’t always that way, but as long as Maggie had known him he’d never been…