A Tiny Shower

I finish my coffee and head into the bathroom, which is cramped, with a toilet beside a tiny shower that reminded me of something that would fit in a trailer, rather than a building. I peed and climbed into the shower, where I luxuriated in the steaming hot water.

Upon finishing, I realized the awkward situation of not having a towel in the tiny bathroom.

“Um, Lou,” I called.

“Yessa, ma’am.”

“Are there any towels out there?”

“Huh, there’s a hand towel.”

“How about in my room?”

A few moments later, he responded, “Nah, nothin’ in there.”

With I sigh, I asked, “Could you please hand me the hand towel?”

“Of course, miss.” And, a second later, he stuck his arm in the bathroom door and handed me the towel, before departing.

As I did my best to dry off with the too-small towel, I couldn’t help but wonder if Lou could even turn around in here and my mind treated me to the image of him standing diagonally in the shower, complete with bath cap, rubber ducky, and back scrubber.

I laughed and quickly squashed the mental image as my mind began wandering lower.

Having bathed, {if ateSelena==true}I pulled on the thong I had been given by the peacock woman and picked up the dress—which was covered in dried blood. “Oh, fucking Hell!” I said to myself. I had just had that entire conversation with Lou while wearing a dress covered in that poor girl’s blood! Honestly, I don’t think I could have remained so composed if a stranger had met me the same way. With a sigh, I turned the shower back on and began washing the dress. Surprisingly, the blood came out with a bit of scrubbing and I did my best to wring it dry before{else}I pulled on the thong I had been given by the peacock woman and wondered if she had survived my attack. Probably, I concluded, not so much upon an abundance of evidence, as simply because it made me feel better than the alternative.{endif} I put on the dress and stepped out of the bathroom.