Naked
The scissors slide easily through the thick denim of my favorite blue jeans, from ankle to waist, ankle to waist, as one leg then the other falls away. He slices up the middle of my thin cotton shirt like tissue paper, unwraps me, my pink Victoria’s Secret bra a final ribbon snipped and spilling to the ground, leaving me naked. Exposed.
Are you having trouble breathing? he asks with kind brown eyes.
A little, on one side, I whisper.
We’ll be there soon he says, gently placing an oxygen mask as the ambulance sirens rattle the warm evening air.
Photo credit: chiarezza
Exposure is so frightening in all of its forms. Great job.
Very powerful, Nancy. Never saw that ending coming. Wow!
Powerful hundred.
Lovely piece, so sensual, and alive.
While wandering around in the Monday morning fog, I randomly read this. It’s as if I’m walking down Main Street and somebody comes up and slaps me in the face. And then gives me a bouquet of wildflowers.
Feelings. So many feelings.
Wow, Nancy!
More violation towards salvation. Paradox. Damn.
I can envision every single moment of this. Lovely work, Nancy.