Binge Tears
Last year, precisely around the anniversary of my father’s expulsion from the womb and premature journey to a tomb, my doctor told me that I was obese. She didn’t even look me. She glared at my blood test and weight check like they were dictionary definitions. These were stagnant facts, just like how we need oxygen to breathe, Christina Fulton is fat. Then, she said, still not looking at me, that my cholesterol was too high. The pitch of her voice when she reached the last wo
