You are in a hotel room. The drapes are drawn. No one else knows you are here. There is a white covering on the bed—something light that flutters with the fan blades as they go around and around, just like your thoughts. He has gone. You don’t know whether to be glad about this or sorry, for with him have vanished all of the terrible things in your life along with all of the best ones. Mainly, you will now need to decide for yourself what to do next. What will you have for dinner now that his needs do not need to be taken into account? When will you go to bed and what side of the bed will you sleep on? It is like beginning a new life with all of the “musts” and “shoulds” erased. You can do anything in the world that you want to do.
You take off your dress and then your underwear. You can have another piece of pie without wondering what he will think the next time he looks at you naked. No one to calculate what went where and when. Is the roll over your waistline evidence of that triple chocolate ice cream cone? That extra inch on your thigh the milk you have in your coffee each morning?
You step to the mirror and look closely, not overlooking for once. Are your curves artistic or simple obesity? Do you yourself care so long as no one else is looking? Is his leaving a blessing or a curse?
You move out to the terrace. It is dark and no one is looking. The night air has a slight movement that you would not be noticing if you were clothed. It is almost sensuous, this movement of air like light caressing fingers—the way he could never quite make his fingers behave enough to be. Nature has become your lover and perhaps this will be enough. Always before, you have replaced each one who left, but maybe this time you will not bother. You and the natural world will conspire to meet your needs and you will be shameless in your environment, carefree in your living. You will pass before mirrors without looking away, even when you stand as you are standing now. Without cover. Without any flattering draping or cloaking color. You. No longer us.
The SOCS prompt is “In The Beginning” (Image generated making use of AI)

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