She looked at herself in the rest room mirror, feeling a sense of disappointment spread through her veins. Right next to her, a voluptuous girl stood, washing her hands. She stared point blank in her direction. Unabashed. Unflinching. She stared at her curves wide-eyed as a prayer reverberated through her mind. “Oh god, why can’t I be like her?” She thought. The voluptuous girl stared back in her direction with discomfort and an underlying sense of anger. “What are you looking at, you skeleton?” She barked at her. She mumbled her apologies and ran out of the washroom to sit at her table.

A pleasant breeze swept through as she made her way to the rooftop rendezvous. And as she approached her table, she saw her best friend waiting for her to arrive. For a second she forgot the washroom incident. But as she leafed through the pages of the menu, it came back to her with a gush of emotion. She decided to gorge on the sinful forest mushroom pizza with added pieces of succulent chicken. And before she knew it, she saw a slab of flat bread with juicy toppings make an entry on the tabletop.

Even her pizza didn’t have the curves, just like her. But it was pizza just the same. And she loved it for that. After all, it was the content that mattered. Not the appearance. She smiled broadly and bit into it.