“The mind is like an iceberg; it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.”
This week, as usual, Mr. D was charged with coming up with a photo idea. He told me to make the bed, take off my clothes, and get him a bowl of ice cubes. My brain swam trying to figure out what he had up his sleeve, and even as I lay on the bed, the curtains open to let in the light of day, my head turned toward it…hearing the click of the camera shutter, I had no idea what he was creating.
I giggled as he ran the ice cubes over my nipples, making them stand erect. And then I noticed the cold numbness taking over. I could feel the cold rivulets of water dripping down my skin onto the bed beneath me, the fan above teasing goosepimples to rise.
It’s a nice image, I think.