Taper

She set a schedule and the first day almost stuck to it. It was a good start, she thought, pushing aside the niggling disappointment in herself. Her inability to impose order on herself, which felt at times like trying to fit into a small suit. If only she could grow smaller. Neat and tidy. Efficient, like a to-do list. Instead her body as it aged was growing looser and more ill-fitting. She wished she could step out of her skin. And into something like a blade of grass. Words like “sleek” and “silken” would possess her. “Elongate” and “taper.”