Travel now not tomorrow

  I went to a foreign land this week. You see, I needed a new bikini. The one I wear is ten years old and looks like me, a little faded. All I could find in London were the tiny, triangular cuts that belong on teenagers, or the balcony style structures that push your boobs under your chin. I am no buxom heavyweight, but I wanted something more fitting for a woman my age. So, I stood outside a shop famous among women with bosoms and I wondered if I could go in. Nothing in the window indicated that it sold anything for women like me, but I had heard that deep in its recesses there was swimsuit stock that might work. My little heart raced as I stood at the doorway. What if the salespeople told me I didn’t belong and laughed at me. My feet began to move away, there was no point in going in. I didn’t belong. But there was a wee side of me that was quite desperate for a new bikini, and I decided to brave any mockery. I stepped into the shop where hefty and fulsome bras and swimsuits hu...