(I learned this from Paul Robalino on the behind the scenes of Game Changer on Dropout.TV. He talks about using a random word generator and then writing from that word. This time we’re shrinking things with the word: Reduction).

Patricia looked at herself in the mirror. She was a pretty woman with a round face and full cheeks but most of the people that she dated didn’t focus on her face. They focused on what was going on below her neck.

Her breasts had started growing when she was fifteen and hadn’t stopped until they were so far down the alphabet that it made her uncomfortable. Her back ached daily and nearly nothing fit. She sighed as she stuffed herself into her bra. The ugly thing that she had bought because it was too expensive to get nice things in her size.

She thought again about getting a breast reduction. She had thought about this and brought it up with other boyfriends she had and they had all thrown tantrums about it. One of them had told her it was like slicing up the Mona Lisa. That if he she did it he would break up with her. She saved him the trouble and broke up with him.

She had the money for it that wasn’t the problem. She was dating a guy now and she saw a future with him. She wondered if he would stick around if she were to do this thing. Then she kicked herself for taking his opinion into account. Who cares what he thought. On a whim, she thought about calling him and asking him. Might as well get it over with and find out what he would say. If he was against it, she would be able to not waste her time anymore.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, sweetums, what’s up?” he answered.

“Nothing, Joshy, I just had a question about something.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I’m thinking about getting a breast reduction.”

“Okay, cool. Just let me know when you’re thinking about it and I’ll take the time off, okay? I want to make sure I’m around to take care of you while you recover.”

Patricia was taken aback. Not in a bad way but more surprised.

“That’s it?”

“Uh, I guess is there something else you want me to do? Do you want me to come with you to the consultation?”

“No, I… you don’t have any objections to it?”

There was a long pause on the other end. She wondered if he was thinking about it for the first time.

“Why would I get a say in what you do to your body?” he asked.

“I mean, I was worried that this might make you less attracted to me,” she said.

“Honey, I love you, I don’t love a pair of tits. If I did I’d buy a pair at the Pleasure Shack and play with those. Probably save me a lot of money and having to smell your taco farts when we get Taco Bell and pass out on the couch.”

She snorted laughter at that.

“Besides,” he continued. “I know how they irk you. I care more about your comfort than some boobs.”

“Hm, I love you, honey,” she said.

“I love you too, give them a call and we can sort it out.”

“Am I going to see you later?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and googled the name of a plastic surgeon. She held the phone to her ear while it rang.

“I’m going to marry that man,” she said.

“Hello, Dr. Patel’s office,” a voice said on the other end. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Patricia Allman, I’d like to make an appointment for a consultation.”