Just a short little piece I had to cut from "Baby Steps." Inspired by that conversation Tell it to the Frogs.


Sometimes the truth of who she is crashes against the walls of who she's learned to be. Sometimes the force of it can't be contained. Sometimes it bursts forth in ways that are exhilarating and terrifying and never quite what she meant to do.

She ducks into a sex shop in the city. There's no sudden downpour, no unbearable heat wave, no excuses. Last night she lay dry and unsatisfied beneath a sweat-soaked man who wouldn't have noticed even if the lights were on.

She buys a vibrator.

She considers the slim, unthreatening varieties with their appealing discreetness, but ultimately she's drawn to a more complicated piece of machinery. This one is hot pink. It looks like it knows things. It makes her blush. Her heart is pounding so hard she can feel it in her throat and in her ears. Her body demands flight, from this shop, from this idea. Somehow she holds fast. She pays cash.

The afternoon is the only time she has to herself and at first the daylight makes her shy. A week passes. She can't even look at the bottom drawer of her dresser without her pulse quickening. She panics as her husband walks past it.

Gradually she learns to love her body in the light. She feels wanton, desirable. Her heart beats in a new way as the low buzz fills the air. She learns to wield the pink weapon. She learns how to wield herself.