Tuesday, April 12, 2016

To clean the floor

Desperate for a bath, aching from a virus, or old wounds, I dragged a trash can into the shower, cleaned and filled it with hot water, and slid in, fetal position. Ah, heaven. A long soak, up to my neck in hot water—in more ways than one. I couldn't get out. The suction and the slanted walls held me close as a burial urn. I was home alone, I didn't fancy sitting for hours in cold water waiting for rescue. Gawd knows where he went off to, or when he'd be back. We were beginning to unravel at the cuffs. So I rocked the can back and forth, until it tipped over onto the cement floor. I slid out, as if born naked from a trash can. I thought to myself, Well, that's one way to clean the floor. Didn't think about the metaphor, until much later.


from another Facebook post

No comments: