She walks from the bed to the window that’s glowing with morning light.
He hopes she realizes how her white, translucent nightgown wonderfully matches the curtain hanging in front of the window, that is also covered by slats blocking out most of the light.
But even if she doesn’t realize this, it’s still a beautiful sight for him. Her nightgown ending at her mid-thigh, her ass can be seen through the delicate fabric. The vertical line of her ass contrasting with the horizontal lines of the window slats.
The morning light radiates between those slats, and the curtain softens it. Same with her nightgown, softening her body.
Layers upon layers, and their soft appearance is misleading. For these coverings can be stronger than imagined, and they can take a long while to lift, to get at what lies underneath.
Their vacation has been a good way for unveiling. Peeling away layer upon layer of defenses. Routines, getting into ruts, are too easily established and not questioned enough. Until disturbed by a force knocking them to the side.
She turns the rod at the side of the window, and the slats turn, open, the spaces between them widen, allowing more morning light to rush through after it was impatiently waiting for that to happen.
She looks out of one of those spaces to the world beyond, the palm trees and brightly colored tropical flowers of the resort’s grounds.
Watching her, he commits this image to his memory. Along with the image of her walking toward the window. Now the curve of her breast is suggested through that translucent nightgown as she turns a little to the side. Just one of the many curves that he loves.
These images he commits to memory, for he wants to remember them after this vacation is over. This is not their everyday life, but a force to question it. And this force — with its beautiful images — must be remembered, for its effect can still work later on.