TITLE: Mendelve's Daughter
Rivulets ran down my sagging breasts, formed into spouts of water at the nipples, and splashed into the crook of my toes. Steam rose in the air, and grew thick. I closed my eyes, ducking my face under the hot shower, and opened my mouth to breathe. Water gushed across my tongue, the metallic taste pleasant. My body sweated while a touch of nausea floated within a comfort zone. I opened my eyes, and turned to let hot water pour over my back until it burned; pleasure tingled my skin. I rotated until the heat became too much, then clasped the knob, and cranked the faucet off. The aged pipes rattled, grumbling resistance with a final contemptuous clunk. I breathed, afraid the noise might wake Daniel and touched my cheek where a three day bruise was turning brown.
“Don’t wake him,” I whispered to the pipes. “Ouch.”
The scab on my busted lip felt enormous to my tongue but barely showed in the mirror.
“Visible like a red nose,” a voice in my head vied for my attention.
I ignored myself, sniffing the air, my sense of smell renewed by soap and water. These scents milled with the odor of roach spray. The pealing linoleum underfoot made my skin crawl. I hurried out of the bathroom and stopped. My wet feet dried on 1960’s shag, once yellow, now a special crappy brown. I hated walking bare foot in it. Daniel knew that, so he had locked my slippers in his office with the car keys and my purse.