Hokey Pokey (What this blog's all about)

A writing challenge I've given myself to write every day for six months. After some posts, I'll put in a comment with a brief explanation of the inspiration for the piece. Some posts will be practice for bigger projects: character sketches or settings. I don't really know what all will happen which is why I'm doing it.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Day 24

Marlo avoids getting out of the car.  When she gets out, she'll have to go in, strip down, and model.  She's agreed to splay her giant body before a class of probably 19 year olds.  She has sought out this challenge.  But now that it is here, she is afraid to step one tiny, tootsie toe out of the vehicle.  Once she sets herself in motion, there'll be no end for the next few hours.  Why has she done this, again?  Oh yeah, because she is pregnant.  And intellectually determined to be proud of the behemouth body she's grown.

Ever since finding out she was pregnant, she's felt disconnected from herself as a nude adult.  She's felt odd about changing in the dressing room.  She's been unable to have orgasms during sex.  Modelling is her committment to herself to get over it. 

She reminds herself of all the reasons she's doing this.  It is for her.  It is to embrace all of pregnancy.  It is to allow a rare opportunity to figure drawering affectionados who don't often get to draw a pregnant subject. Yes. Yes.  She means to do this.  She has planned what poses she can stay in for one minute, two minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes. 

She opens the car door and steps out.  She walks slowly to the building.  Someone offers to help but she's focused and says no, thank you.  People always want to help you when you're pregnant.  But she just wants to be anonymous for the moment.  She is focused on her task. 

She checks the name on the building, sees it is correct, opens the door and steps inside.  Within the entryway there is a listing of all the rooms in the building and a map that shows her where she is heading.  She walks on, faking self-assured.  Actually feeling self-assured. 

She's worn light easy clothes.  A long skirt she can slide off easily and a loose top that offers still more room for growth.  Flip flops.  She finds the room and feels herself begin to hesitate.  To doubt.  She pushes past it and opens the door.

"Philip?"  She asks as she struts, or as close to that as a waddler like her can muster, towards the front.

"Marlo!  I'm so glad you made it.  The students are buzzing with excitement.  We're so grateful you were willing to share this with us."  He purrs.

She does not make eye contact with the students.  She's not sure if it's better to face them now or to look them in the eye once she's naked.  Holy shit!  She's about to be naked in front of a room full of people with breasts 4 sizes bigger than normal and a belly.

Phillip shows her to a screen where she can 'disrobe.'  She steps behind the screen and steps out of the flip flops, points each toe like a ballerina.  She pictures staring right into a man's eye, challenging him.  She steps out of her skirt.  She imagines reaching her arms straight up toward the sky, her hair cascading down her back, thanking god for this gift.  She pulls her shirt over her head, lets it fall.  She visualizes sitting, wrapped with arms and legs around her, protecting her from the devil.  Then she removes her bra.  She forgoes the robe... and...

Walks onto the stage.

1 comment:

  1. I went to the Huffington Post and looked for an author. I also planned to model nude when I was pregnant but it didn't work out. I used the picture of the author to imagine what she would do. I probably should have made her a journalist in the story. Maybe on a rewrite.