You might think I like showing off my legs.  Sure, I’ve heard it once or twice before– that my legs are shapely and look touchable.  “It’s freezing outside, Matilda,” you tease me.  “Doncha know we all know you have beautiful legs?”  You’re laughing at my vanity.  But we’re inside and it doesn’t snow inside, except at the mall during holiday shopping.  I can’t afford pants.  I’m barely five feet tall, living in an all-American society of five-sixes.  I’d need extra income to get pants hemmed, and you don’t pay me enough, Charlie.


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