The teacher cajoled me onto the chair so my tenth-grade classmates could sketch a live model. Charcoal sticks scuffed as he ambled, then stopped near my elbow. “You have lovely lips.” The scuffing slowed. I had thought about my eyes before. My hair. Never my lips. “But not that nose!” The scuffing stopped, then restarted like a power surge as he turned. I had thought of my boobs before. My hips. Never my nose. The bell rang and the other students rushed out. But I was welded in place as he raised his thumb to wipe away the next tear.
Louella Lester is a writer and photographer in Winnipeg, Canada. Her new flash CNF book is Glass Bricks (At Bay Press). Find Louella at louellalester.blog, on Twitter @louloubellish, and on Instagram @louellalester.