Flattery

My husband was a succubus and, after the kids left, he left me for his secretary. He will now steal her youth, beauty and ambition.  

Pre-marriage, he admired my painting. Post-marriage, he tolerated it. After we had children, he was outwardly hostile towards my art, mocking, so much so that I gave it up, even though I thought about it every day. 

Post-divorce, I had time to indulge myself. I painted and delighted in the reds and blues and yellows splodged on my hands. I made pottery, enjoying the slow moulding beneath my fingertips. 

And then what started as an idle revenge fantasy found seriousness. I finally found the courage to model nude. I imagined what my ex-husband would say; or, not say. He would have given me the silent treatment for a month. Which would be good, you would think, but His moods created storm clouds over the entire family. 

That day, the seventeen-year-olds trundled in. The teacher brusquely mentioned that it was their first time using a live model, me, and she said, ‘over to you’ and I took my dressing gown off and assumed position.

There were only three boys in the class. The good-looking one, with bouncy Harry Styles hair, the one who the girls’ eyes went to, began to cover himself. I briefly thought that he might be feeling sick. But, no. My husband said that I was unfuckable. But this teenage boy didn’t agree with him.

I tried not to smile. The boy was making such a meal of it, trying to hide himself and turning red. I was told to take certain poses. I didn’t want to sleep with this boy who was younger than my daughters. 

But, perhaps, contrary to His belief, other men might find me attractive.

Kate Lunn-Pigula has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Nottingham. Her work has been published by Litro, Clover and White, Brilliant Flash Fiction, Idle Ink, The Honest Ulsterman, Other People’s Flowers, Bunbury Magazine, and Thresholds, amongst others. You can find her at http://katelunnpigula.wordpress.com and on Instagram @katelunnpigula.