Karen Walker
Life. Drawing.
The art gallery is seeking adult models to pose nude.
$250 for 1.5 hours
One leg bent at the knee, the other folded under the body. Hands flat on the living room floor.
My first pose.
The mirror thinks it's interesting—reflective if rather fidgety—and that I look fine.
How's this one, mirror? More intimate?
Body in an S-shape to accentuate curves.
Hey, I'm getting braver.
Brave enough to tell Greg about the modelling job. We're in bed. My tell comes out like an ask.
"Shit, they should be drawing me instead," says Greg.
He jumps out of bed and poses like he's Schwarzenegger. Like he's a Greek god. A hand—a fist actually—swings back and punches me in the eye. He must've felt my face. Must've. He keeps posing as if he didn't.
My back to the artists because of the black eye. Because the $250 means more than just pasta or rice or soup for dinner after dinner, and a start on next month's rent.
Karen Walker writes and draws and paints in Ontario, Canada. Her recent work is in or forthcoming in Full House Literary, Literary Garage, Weird Lit Magazine, Switch, and Blood+Honey. @kawalker.bsky.social