The Way She Looks: What Not to Say

The sheets were blue and white, I remember, and smelled lightly of l’Air du Temps. The mattress was on the floor and I was flat on my back looking up, admiring my girlfriend as she stood admiring herself, completely naked, in the mirror across the room.

“If you had to pick something that you didn’t like about the way I look,” she said, “What would that be?”

“You’re perfect,” I said.

“No, really,” she said.

“Perfect,” I said.