For Want of a Mask

Angela didn't know what to say. Her fleeting hope of having a normal conversation with Rachel had been shattered. But at least she wouldn't have to break the news.

"The pics are stunning, by the way, you look really good. I need the deets on your glute exercises."

"Th-thanks Rachel," Angela stammered, just then stepping out of her jeans and opening her closet to find some shorts.

"Anyway, I can't talk too long right now, just wanted to call and let you know that you're beautiful and I fully support you. But please remember to wear your bridesmaid dress for the wedding! I need all eyes to be on me."

Angela found a pair of pink short shorts. "I will, don't worry."

"Good. I want to hear all about your night. We should meet up for coffee this week so you can spill! The Angela I remember wouldn't even wear a string bikini, so I want to find out what you've been hiding from me!"

"How about tomorrow after work? My place?"

"Done... but please put something on, for my sake."

They said goodbye to each other and both hung up. Angela buttoned her shorts, then sighed deeply and fell back on her bed. She would tell Rachel the truth, the whole story, and about how horrible she'd felt and how glad she was to finally be clothed again. Then maybe her best friend would stop thinking she was an exhibitionist.

Angela's feelings were all in a tangle. She had hated the embarrassment of being naked against her will, and the lack of control she had felt, and all the ways that people had used and abused her. Tammy's contrivances, Mark's probing finger, that old man Horatio's perverted measurements. The charity store worker's backhand.

But she'd enjoyed the compliments, and the feeling of water against her skin, and even the breeze, though it was sometimes a bit cold. And if she was really honest with herself, well, dancing at the strip club was kind of fun too. She wouldn't be taking Madame Claire up on her offer, but maybe she could phone and find out if she could hire Ms. Shenkovich to do her hair and makeup again. That would be a massive improvement on Rosa's.

She'd also had fun at the Square, and everyone had been really nice to her, even if the thought of all those eyes still made her blush. And she'd met Donato. Would he even have noticed her with clothes on? And, more pressingly, what should she wear for him next time? Could she really follow up last night with a date in one of her boring old conservative dresses? She wanted him to enjoy looking at her body, like he had during their dance.

Yesterday had been the worst day of her life, but also the best. Certainly the most stressful and exciting. Even some of the worst parts were kind of funny, looking back. Not all of them. And while she didn't quite want to admit this to herself, the best parts had come at the end, when she'd bent to the will of universe and stopped trying to find clothes. Maybe there was something to that. Tonight, she would try a little experiment.

Angela passed the rest of the day inside, finally responding to all of the messages she'd received. She told her concerned friends that she was safely home and clothed again, and didn't need any more help. She told the friends who hadn't identified her in the pictures that indeed her resemblance to the naked girl was striking, and that that was amusing but also kind of embarrassing. She sent a message to Dorothy thanking her for the pictures and the ride. She left messages from Tammy and Mark on read. She prayed for a call from Donato.

Once the sun had set, it was time for the experiment. Angela's condo was a single storey with a small yard. She opened the back door and went into her garden, where a variety of plants were growing, which she dutifully watered.

A ladder was propped up against the roof shingles. She liked to go up there sometimes to think. It wasn't entirely safe on the angled roof, but there was enough flat space to sit and let her feet dangle down the side, and the little bit of danger was kind of exciting.

But there definitely wasn't enough space to undress on the roof, so Angela did that first. She pulled the t-shirt over her head, and unbuttoned and pulled down her shorts. She unhooked her bra and pulled down her panties, leaving everything in a heap on the grass. It was the easiest thing in the world.

Angela climbed the ladder and cleared a flat space to sit. She gingerly set her butt down and dangled her bare legs and feet. She looked out at the quiet suburb, leafy trees and houses stretching as far as she could see.

Then, slowly and carefully, she raised herself to a standing position, in the middle of the roof. She spread her arms out and looked up at the night sky. It was dark under the new moon. The wind whistled past her. It whipped up her hair and she enjoyed its cool touch on her nether regions. Maybe there was something to the Bureau of Clothing's scientifically formulated non-outfit after all.

But then she had been naked. Now, she was nude.

Angela heard the neighbor's door rustling and quickly got down off the roof. She didn't want to upset George's wife. And maybe she wasn't perfectly at ease with all of this just yet. She gathered up her clothes and went back inside. She liked being normal Angela. But she also liked being nude Angela sometimes. There was enough room in her life for both.

The End