Colleen's story Part 1 B
Transition from balcony to apartment:
The moment felt longer than it really had been before withdrawing into my place. To my left I turned after sliding the door shut from behind. From the island set up of the open kitchen my fingers lifted a glass from its polished oak surface, finished its cool content. I then snatched the empty plate it had been next to. The fork on it still, made one long course scraping sound sliding across at a slight till catching the curved edge. Into the sink I placed both, ice clanking against the internal wall of the thin drinking glass. I ran water over both for several seconds. This is a rare grace I allow. Taking care of things immediately is much more practical. Flow of time doesn't change inevitably. I'd get it in the morning. There was only one thing on my mind. Deliciousness of another kind. The kind not satisfied by tastebuds, well that's not always true. Pleasure of course depended on what I was wanted for by who was paying. Anyways, from there I headed to the hot shower.
Straight across from the kitchen with the living room at my right my bare feet against the lush carpet separating the space between each section. From the comfort of thick fibers between my toes with each step to a cold hard empty feeling beneath. To my right, I pulled the thick curtain decorated with a heron on one leg standing in a pond with Asian pagodas in the background against a far eastern sun. The image folded until turning on the hot water and adjusting the cold a little before pulling it back into position. To my left I turned to see my own full body reflection hidden beneath my work clothes.
Behind the glass looking back was myself. There I stood up straight eyeing myself. Not with any vanity but assessing my my shape, body mass and outfit covering most of my chalk white skin. My deep blues broke direct eye contact taking in view of shoulder thixk length obsidian black hair draping against bare shoulders. Straps of a matte little more than inch of a green tank top kept it in place where shoulders end and collarbones begin. There was a space between it and my pants revealing my belly button having the diameter of a pinky finger. A couple of inches below stretchy black denim clung to my waist tight curving like a second skin against the firm curves of my small hips. Where hips ended and thighs begin the elasticity conforming but without the same holding the waistband in place. Jeans like this were a godsend. Strangely enough the material created a more free feeling than traditional denim material. They brought out full shape of not only the feminine shape of my thighs but my calves as well before both pant legs curving with suggestive bellbottom shape at my ankles, ending in my bare feet taking comfort on a small schanel bathroom rug at the where shower and floor begin.
(I acknowledge typos, this is merely a draft in progress)
