I had two with you, both of them harsh ones, which is odd because you're small and delicate looking. Or maybe that's why they occurred. I do love opposites.

One is you in army fatigues, in the middle of what is obviously a major battle, snarling and firing a machine gun or uzi. A totally "Don't fuck with me," one person versus insurmountable odds and isn't going to back down moment.

The other is in stark black and white. A long street, and for the whole length of the street, lying on the ground, are men's bodies. All big men, body-builder types, all oiled so great muscles and lines, and we can't see their faces. No idea if they're alive or dead. There's no-one else on the street except for you, and you're walking over them, on them, straight at the camera, a determined and grim expression on your face.

Part of me is trying to figure out what you'd be wearing, because it sort of feels like you should be wearing something, and part of me thinks you should be naked. I actually think naked would work best. Having see you naked, you have beautiful soft lines to your body, which would be a great counterpoint to the muscled lines of the bodies. But I can't quite shake the feeling you should be dressed, and I can't nail down what would work.