No sex. A poem that arose from my grief when the woman I was dating died suddenly from an anaphylactic reaction to an antibiotic she was taking. She was undergoing reconstructive jaw surgery so much of our communication in those last days was through e-mail. I sent a "good morning" e-mail to her and the reply, several hours later, was from her brother with the news.
A well-known person with dwarfism once said that little people and fat people are the only groups left that it's socially acceptable to make fun of. This story brings two people from those groups together to take on the world, the gym, the scale, the race course, and the hurdles their psyches have built in their minds. BBW/amputee codes are plot elements, not fetishes. Not a stroke story. New author, first story. Constructive feedback welcome. Enjoy. Thanks to jetson63 for his editing help
