Maisha Z.

Johnson Exposed She woke up to blades of grass tapping her bare shoulders like the fingers of children eager to play. She didn¶t have a blanket, she knew, but she felt herself wrapped in the warmth of her own skin. She moved her head from side to side to smell the morning, the damp dew nourishing the earth beneath her. She sat up, recognizing that she was nude only because of the way her body shifted, her hips falling in exchange for her body lifting, her breasts swaying slightly before coming to rest. There were murmurs above her, and she knew that she was not alone, but she wasn¶t ashamed. She raised her arms to the sky, opened her mouth and let out a laugh louder than a lioness¶s roar.

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