Naif

He asked her to stand in the window so he could take a picture. She was naked, but on the sixteenth story of a building on the edge of downtown, she didn't think anyone would know. She took a seat on the bay window and looked out over the city. For a moment, she forgot she was posing.

Later that afternoon, she wondered what he would do with the picture. She wasn't worried about it, but she realized she didn't know his intentions. Would he keep it hidden between the pages of a book, or stick it in the frame of his bathroom mirror so he'd see it every day? Would he throw it on the table in his front hallway and forget about it, or would he sleep with it under his pillow, taking it out sometimes to look at while he stroked himself?

It was only a silhouette, but she knew that for both of them, the image itself wasn't what mattered. They would remember that morning, that surprise meeting on the street, and that feeling of finding each other's bodies once again. One last time.