I’ve never been here before, standing in the rain on the sidewalk with a man running the back of his hand down the side of my cheek.

I’ve never felt this before, this sweet electricity, this furious pulse.

But all I can think about are the folds of my stomach, the skin that stretches my shirt too tight, my lumpy thighs in these pants.

He moves his hand down but before he could get past my neck, I stopped him.

“No, I’m sorry,” I said. “My body is not yet ready to be loved.”

“You are quite wrong about that.”

I’m on a mission to write 1,000 one hundred word stories. Thanks for reading!

Photo by Gonzalo Mendiola on Unsplash