"Brigitte Snaps"

49. Night Comes Clean

Brigitte wakes up to a wonderful sort of ache that, for a few moments, almost cripples her. She hasn't yet learned to enjoy this, this thing called little deaths, but she's willing to try to get the hang of it. She breathes in the air, heavy with their smell, and smiles. All is well.

She gets up, naked, and stumbles to the bathroom. She looks at the body mirror and sees the twigs-for-legs, no-breasts-no-hips, mop-headed doll looking back at her, but doesn't mind her being there. Let her stay, she isn't harming anyone, everyone is just too keen on harming her is all.

She takes a shower to relax, maybe unknot some of the muscles that got all tangled up last night. She knows why she's feeling so easy – this is the hour before Death, where Life seems to carry so much beauty, value and joy that it's undeniable.

She runs her hands down with the small tides across her skin and the sensation feels wonderful, because the night comes clean in the morning and what she did in the night, she will never say.