A New Age

When it came to advertising true age via the body, Nature found a contender in Anita. She fought fiercely to prevent the ravages of time using her face and body as a billboard.

A true gym rat, she could be spotted most of the time toting a bag of workout clothes. In the gym, she got most of her kicks by running next to an obese person, watching with guilty pleasure from the corners of her eyes, her fellow gym mate struggle on the treadmill while Anita ate the miles with ease.

Post workout, she headed to the beauty parlor where assorted uniformed women would smear her toned body with pungent oils and spank her in legally approved ways.

Finally done, she donned her faded jeans and headed to her car. The jeans were naturally faded — originally purchased when she attended college. Every time she wore them, Anita was proud that her college clothes still fit her. It was her way of stating -‘take that, Mother Nature!’

Smiling inwardly at the glances thrown her way, she stopped. A tennis ball had bounced in front of her, obviously separated from its owner.

She grabbed the greenish orb and scanned the four directions of the compass for its owner, hoping to impress the wayward bouncer with her childlike grace. Her Kohl-rimmed eyes finally spotted the owners — a group of school boys who were watching her curiously.

“Aunty, can you return our ball?”

The title ‘Aunty’ shook her. Aunt? She was no fucking aunt. Damn these young brats.

She threw the ball angrily and walked off in a huff.

Aunty indeed.

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