Thousand: Six Hundred Eighty-Six

unlace the girl’s shoes. “Uh. Wait. This is a bath? I can. I can do it myself. It’s okay. I can untie my shoes and stuff.” The girl backs away from the woman’s quick fingers and finds herself stepping out of her shoes. She grabs her pants as they slip off her hips. When did her belt disappear? There it is atop the rug pile and neatly rolled. Arms encircle her, which briefly reminds her of the angel’s embrace. She is naked before she can do more than mumble protests. A holey sponge slides its cool water over her collarbones.