Noha Al-Badry is 20 years old, 5'3 and 110 pounds. A mock-human brown-eyed, wall-white cellular composition. When 16, on one fateful day, was told she had a particularly analytical personality which was the speaker's way of nicely calling her an anal pain-in-the-ass. Shrugs. Loves cooking at 3 am, random hair dyes at 7 am (and only if very bored) and book-shopping. Believes that being a Pisces has everything to do with her zealous appetite for seafood. Her work has also appeared in Otoliths.

Observing Girl X

posted Sep 11, 2012

If you see a girl sitting next to a public bathroom, a bag of Mars chocolate bars next to her, eating a bowl of salad big enough for three and drenched in dressing, the likelihood is, she's not simply an eccentric hermit. It doesn't take a genius really. This girl will finish her salad. She will then consume the aforementioned chocolate bars and whatever else she has enough money to buy. She will then walk into the bathroom. Stealthily stare until its inhabitants – a woman fixing, re-fixing her veil then applying, reapplying her mascara, her lipstick then touching up her powder for what seems like hours…and a girl with a mane of fuzzy curls washing her hands vigorously -- to exit. She will then sneak into the disabled bathroom stall. She will throw her bag on the floor, take off her accessories and stuff them in her pockets, strip off her shirt, and tie back her hair. Then she will stick two fingers down her throat, teeth chaffing her knuckles as a mass of multi-colored food explodes down the toilet in a rampant swirl. On and on she will heave, sound effects resembling those of a washing machine, a gurgle. When an anonymous person will hurry in to urinate, she will pause. Wait for whoever it is to leave the bathroom. Then back to the drill until her hands are painted the sticky yellow of bile. Good. Stage one of tissue paper, wrap around hand then pull to get rid of morsels of food and saliva. Stage two, whole-hearted rubbing of her hands, her face, her neck until it starts to burn. Stage three, tissues between each finger. Done. Flush. Sneak out. She will stand in front of the mirror, lift her shirt, suck in her stomach, assure herself with the flatness of her belly and the violent protrusion of her ribs. Wrap hands around her waist. Empty. Good. She will untie her hair, let tumble in waves to distract from the redness and slight puffiness of her face. Take one last look and rearranges her face into mock normalcy. She'll be thirsty. Needs water. Or a Coca Cola Light. And a cigarette. Steps out of the bathroom. This is what this girl will do.