The bathroom is small, there is a shower stall in front of me with an opaque glass door. The toilet is on the left facing a small sink hanging from the wall. It was a tiny, simple bathroom. Basic amenities, but to me it was the most luxurious bathroom I had ever seen. For nineteen years I’ve been pooping outside. I stand there, not knowing what to do first. There is a mirror above the sink, square and simple. I’ve seen my reflection before in dirty puddles that I found wherever. Then I was more concerned if I could drink it rather than how good I looked. But now the allure is strong. A real mirror. I take the few small steps to stand in front of my reflection. I don’t recognize myself. My youth has been wasted away in the ravages of Armageddon. My hair is dirty, shaggy and uneven. Long in the back where I couldn’t see well enough to cut the locks. Shorn in the front where I could reach best, keeping it out of my face so I could see better. I’m covered in grime, skin red and still flaky in some places. My lips are cracked and bleeding a little in the corners. Scars are everywhere. A large purple one down my cheek over my jaw is the worst, taking up the whole right side of my face. I fell off a cliff to get that one. I look awful and I’m covered in piss. I punch the mirror. Cracks and fissures take over the glass, leaving me to look at a dozen different Mes. Tears are streaming down my face as I sit down to take off my boots, piss soaked pants, socks, shirt. There’s more ugly scars on my torso, thighs, back. I’ve not always been so lucky, ya know; but whatever. I stand up and walk to the shower, opening the door. It looks like a normal shower, but I have no idea what I’m doing. There’s three dials. I know where the water comes from, but how to turn it on is a challenge. I start with the closest one and turn it clockwise, but it doesn’t move. So I try counter clockwise. That turns on the water, it’s cold. I turn the middle dial counter clockwise, the water changes from a rain shower to a single stream. No, I don’t want that, turn it back.. I turn the last dial counter clockwise, doesn’t move. Ok, clockwise, now the water is getting warmer. I step over the edge into the warm shower. It. Feels. Amazing. I stand there, letting the water pour over me and my mind wander.
W. Edith Gilead 2 Minutes
Published by W. Edith Gilead
I am an author and self publisher. I have been telling stories since I was able to speak. I've been writing them since I could hold a pen. View all posts by W. Edith Gilead