Sharing's Half the Fun - The Route of Death

3 people today asked to see some of my writing, out of the blue and with no real reason. And then, I get an e-mail from a long-forgotten writing pal, with the prompt 'Write about the process of sharing your work with others.' Must be some weird planetary sign, or, more likely, a bunch of folk in kick-butt mode. So. Here goes.

Um - did you see that programme on TV, 'Anatomy for Beginners'? With the creepy dude in the Pratchett Hat and freaky smile, slicing and prodding all the alien slime of the human body, extracting it for all to see. Well, that's what it's like, and I, like the audience on 'Anatomy', can only attend in awkward excitement; no part to play, and little understanding of his odd ruminations. And every bit what makes the show.
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She exhales forcefully through tightened jaw, handing him the almost-pristene pages.

He reclines artistically into his chair, and she wonders whether he's really that relaxed as she shuffles forwards awkwardly, unable to still her hands and feet as she tries to fathom his expression.

He sucks in his breath, and she catches hers sharply as his pencil makes a mark she cannot see. And as he flicks from one page to the next, she twitches, fighting the urge to pounce upon his form.

Engrossed, he sits, as he's carried by her words. And suddenly, panic wells inside her chest - who is this guy? What does he know, what does he really know about her art?.

She slows her breath deliberately, and though she cannot quite avert her eyes, she tries to think of something else. Idly, as she half observes him, her mind runs over what he reads, and before she can catch herself, she's second guessing his conclusions.

Finally, the torment peaks, as he lowers paper, closes his eyes for a moment and exhales. He's done trudging back and forth across her art, at least for now. As he lifts his head, and focuses on her, with honest, frank expression, a final lurch of panic jolts inside, for he has insight now, into more than he may ever know.

And in the seconds before the words sink in, she can only hope he wont abuse his power.