My warm moistened skin rested against the glossy, immaculate porcelain-coated steel of the empty bathtub. I couldn’t tell the temperature of that hard material that limited my comfort in the antiseptic capsule. It was neutral, it was welcoming. Drops crowded the walls, the tiles, the plastic curtain that kept me from the air outside, but they remained static. It seemed as if all was at the border of imploding in a cloud of chloride, shampoo and infinite pieces of water divided into zillions of minute silver marbles suspended in the air. Regardless, my body was reluctant to get out of its own entanglement that made it fit into the tub. My head found its place at a rounded corner as my eyelids did nothing but try to get me to sleep in there. Half asleep, half listening to some telephone conversation going on far outside that whole environment, I watched droplets run down as fast as the minutes I spent secluded in my own private thoughts.
Her flesh was pale, as white, gelid and numb as the bathtub itself. She felt an internal void vacuuming her organs and her feelings. Her lips parted in the intent of letting a shriek go, though nothing but guttural sounds came across her teeth. She could hardly breathe and that was all that was left to her, unless someone, by chance, found her. Just a pathetic piece of white flesh.
No comments:
Post a Comment