Standing in the shadows, afraid to expose herself to the light, she reached for her robe to cover her scantily clad body. “I’ll never show myself again.” she moaned. Embarrassed? Disgusted? Guilty? “Which is it?” she demanded of herself as she thought about last night’s party, with lots of fun people she knew, and some she didn’t. Her mind was too fuzzy to decide.
“Blame it on the Vodka.” she reasoned. It was the only explanation. She knew that too much could be dangerous. Last night, she found just how dangerous. Was it the fourth or fifth drink that did her in? It didn’t matter. It was done…and nothing could change what happened.
“Will I ever be able to look in the mirror again?” she thought. “Well, it has to happen sooner or later. It may as well be now.” She stepped in front of the full-length mirror, dropped her robe to the floor and pondered over the reflection of the curves of her body. Breasts, buttocks, thighs – how would she ever explain the tattoos that now adorned them?
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