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Felicity Fenton
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The Gym and a Dead Gorilla

I'm in a city that feels like a combination of Hanoi and Denver. I'm walking to the gym in nicer clothes. Clothes I wouldn't ear to the gym. I arrive late and the teacher, Mary, a very fat woman drives a bus up to the front door and instructs us all to get started. I don't know what I'm doing and start to sweat in nude pantyhose. At the front of the building there is a dusty shop with random clothes available for sale and other things that have been there for a long time. Like a small town gas station where there are also random t-shirts and gifts that no one ever buys. I pull on a pair of bike shorts. They feel too small and the elastic in the waste man falls apart almsot immediately. I pull on a large t-shirt. I feel awkward and still don't have on the right shoes to be working out. My friend arrives. I tell her the class is different than usual. She seems ok with it and we all start doing random movements that the teacher hasn't instructed us to do at all. I leave the class and head down the street. A dried up gorilla body and face end up in my arms. I feel guilty about having this thing in my arms and look for a place to hide it. I stuff it into a trash can. Its face crunches in my hands. I feel sick with guilt and sad for the poor gorilla. I walk away hoping no one will discover my fingerprints. 

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tags: Hanoi, Denver, gym, a fat woman, nude pantyhose, dusty shop, bike shorts, large t-shirt, friends, dead gorilla, trash can, guilt
Friday 04.03.15
Posted by felicity fenton
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Go outside. Good things happen outside.