Short poses

"We're gonna start with a few gestures," Doug said, getting a timer ready. "One minute each."

Candace decided this moment was good as any. She let go of the robe, and it fluttered down her body, landing on the platform behind her. Time seemed to stop as she adjusted to her body being the focus of the room.

Then, she relaxed. The students were doing last-minute adjustments to their easels, choosing their favorite piece of charcoal, cracking their knuckles. She was now a subject, not a naked woman.

"What're you thinkin' for music, Candace?" Doug asked, and she was snapped out of her own head.

"Oh, uh, got any Fleetwood Mac?"

"You got it," he said. She heard quick typing, then music. She glanced around again, seeing everyone's eyes roaming her body. She heard a beep from behind her as Doug set the timer. Candace settled into the first of a handful of poses she'd practiced the night before. "Go!"

Candace zoned out, lulled by the tunes and the sound of charcoal scratching on newsprint. Every minute, the timer would beep, and there would be a great shuffling as the students flipped onto a new piece of paper. Candace held her arms above her head, baring herself to the room. With each pose she turned, moved her arms, bent her legs - she tried to make each pose as different as possible, and in the process she was sure she left nothing to the imagination. Candace felt zen. She felt beautiful, like a piece of art.