The second naked woman I ever saw was you. You were not young and beautiful, and so you were fascinating. I was five or six when I spotted you emerging from the gym shower and followed you to your personal locker. You peeled off your towel and patted yourself dry. I stared at you, fascinated, with my head peeked round a locker. I had never seen skin like yours before, with texture and color that changed across the planes of your body.
I thought when you caught me looking you would snatch up something to cover yourself, but you didn’t. You saw me, smiled a little, waved, and then continued to dry off and get dressed at a pace unhurried by knowledge that a little girl was watching.