There were no mirrors in the forest and so the only way to check her appearance was to look in her shadow. Sandy adjusted her coat and made sure her water bottle with sticking out over her hip.
She had to admit that she almost looked like some kind of professional. Her husband would have never believed this, the doubting Thomas that he was, and for a moment Sandy was sorry she had left him. It would have been really satisfying to see his face if he had been looking at her right now.
Sandy was feeling very proud of herself when she picked up her rucksack and gave the campsite a final look round. She did not want to leave anything behind because she certainly did not want the attention of somebody pointing out her littering.
Freedom at last to start moving around on her own without her husband holding her back. She had never realised quite how much he had been restricting her.
As Sandy walked away from the mutilated corpse left dangling from a tree she would find herself wishing that she had brought a mirror. The shadow did not show the blood that smeared her face.
Written for Sunday photo fiction