I WEAR A NEW RED DRESS TIGHT AT THE waist. Pain still shoots from my abdomen, but less now. I make my way to the office. In the streets, the sun shines and it is for me. Joy rises up through the earth into my legs and into my body, the world a beauty I am part of, everything fresh, blank, clean. I walk to the main streets, chin up in the crowd, finally part of the throbbing city.

“What are you smiling about, you ugly bitch?” shouts a man on the street.

“WELL THERE SHE IS!” THE BOSS ROARS, standing next to my desk. “Welcome back! How are we feeling?”

I beam a weak smile. The office hasn’t changed the way I have changed: The walls are still dull, the cubicle gray around me.

“I’m great,” I say. “How have things been around here?”

“Not the same without you!” the boss says. “Now I can’t comment on where you’ve been, for legal reasons, and I also cannot tell you that you look fantastic, for legal reasons.”

“OK,” I say.

“Let’s make this a great first day back!” he says, and I return to the notes.

IN THE LUNCH ROOM, I SPOON GREEN split pea soup into my mouth.

Brenda walks in, a pink barrette holding her awful bangs back.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she says. “Whatcha got there?”

“Soup,” I say, gesturing at the soup.

“What kind?” she asks.

“Split pea,” I say, gesturing at the soup again.

“You look different,” she says.

I shrug, blush, look down into the sea of soup.

“Guess Dr. Richardson really fixed you up,” she says, sliding her sandwich between her thin lips.

I picture myself as a lean new animal. I imagine it: Tearing her limbs from her body, lifting her torso up as an offering to the sun.

I SIT IN THE DIM LIGHT OF THE BAR. THE sunlight only comes through when the door opens. The scent of urine radiates from the bathroom.

A man takes a seat next to me.

“What a beautiful day out, huh?” he says.

I nod. I drink red wine from a splotched glass.

“So, what do you do?” he asks.

“I type notes,” I say.

“Nice. I’m in sales.”

“I don’t know much about sales.”

“It’s complicated, not worth explaining,” he says, loosening his tie.

IN THE DIM LIGHT OF MY KITCHEN, HIS mouth tastes of beer and golden coins. I let his hands run over my smooth abdomen, a belly like all of the other bellies in the world, and he presses against me and then we are in my bedroom and he is sliding my dress off, and in the shards of light from the window, he runs his mouth over my breasts.