Crafted by angels – Chapter 10

It had been a rough couple of days; and she reeked. She dared not sniff herself. She knew she probably smelt like cabbage sauce. Whatever that smelt like. She gingerly stepped into the shower. Wait, I better turn on the water first. If the first blast is a cold one, I could kill myself. She nodded in agreement with herself; remembering what had happened a week ago. She was about to take a shower before bed, and turned on the tap as usual. Unfortunately, she didn’t check that there wasn’t any hot water. Not only that, but for some reason she continued the shower, and by the time she realized the hot water wasn’t going to come on, it was too late. She was convulsing and bent over, shivering. She tried bouncing, but that didn’t help. In fact, it made things somewhat worse. She was stiff and her muscles were locked. She fought hard to keep moving. It took forever, but finally she was dressed for bed.

 

She snapped out of her flashback and looked at the current situation. She looked around for some space to put her toiletries; not that she had much, but really, there was no space for her. She sat on the toilet for a while pondering about life. Ah! She can put her shower cream behind the small mirror, and her facial gel will fit there also. There was a large mirror concealing a medicine cabinet. Back home, she didn’t have a mirror in her toilet. Well, she did, but it was small, at an awkward height, and covered in grime, so it was pretty much useless.

 

Her toothbrush and toothpaste fit under the medicine cabinet, so that was fine, and the rest will go into the cabinet next to the shower. She wonders how it is that the cabinet wasn’t ruined by the moisture. There was even a book on the counter. Didn’t the moist air get to it? She stepped into the shower; then, remembering that near-death experience, stepped out again. She closed the curtain and peered at the shower. She carefully turned the knob. She looked at the water, eyed it carefully. Did it look cold? Not so much. She pushed one hand in. Yes, this was agreeable. She entered the shower.

 

She had never understood how people could shower for so long. The concept of enjoying a shower was foreign to her. Not that she had grown up in a full household where sibling constantly banged on the door for you to hurry up – no, far from that. But still, she just couldn’t stay long in a bathroom. Even when she chose to “pamper” herself with hair treatments, she still found she spent less than 5 minutes. Ponder life’s decisions, evaluate humanity, have enthusiastic imaginary conversations, and yet still, never to exceed 10 minutes. Unless it was time for her to clean the bathroom. That would take a whopping 20 minutes; plus the showering.

But now, here, she reeked. She knew she reeked. Of cabbage sauce. And suddenly the lukewarm water against the cold air felt so good. She had had warm baths before, but this time it was different. She could never just let the water run down her hair before, but this time she did. She just stood there, enjoying the water. For the longest time ever, she just let the water run down, and she thought she finally understood what the other mere mortals meant by taking a long, hot shower.

 

It was two minutes.

 

She let the water pour on, and reached out for her shampoo. It was a twin packet. She didn’t understand that. Why would they have two packets of shampoo stuck together? Who uses two packets of shampoo at once? If it were meant to be used on two separate occasions, then why not cut them into two? Why leave them attached? Or better yet, why not attach it to the conditioner? She could use some conditioner. Was there any in the bathroom? She scanned around. It wasn’t in English, so she couldn’t figure it out. She turned back to the shampoo packet.

The good thing about shampoo packets is that you could discard the packet after usage, and it reduced the weight of what she was lugging around. A bottle would always take up the same amount of space. However, when one is already in the shower, opening a shampoo packet could prove to be a challenge. She tried to tear it open, knowing that wouldn’t work. She tried anyway. It didn’t work. She bit into the packet, pulling it with her teeth. It tore, but not enough to let out any shampoo. She snarled at the packet.

It felt good to lather on the shampoo. She never understood that before. Previously it was always a chore for her. One that she wanted done and over with as soon as possible. But after the couple of days that she had had, she was more than grateful for it. She left the shampoo in a mound on her head and reached out for her shower cream. There was less than half a bottle left. Ordinarily, this would have been more than enough to last her two weeks. However, in her state of muck, she wanted more. She looked around to see if there was any other shower gel. Ah! There’s a bottle over there. She crinkled her nose. Are those cartoon characters?

It felt like an eternity, and she was enjoying every moment of it. It took a lot of willpower for her to turn off the tap and step out. The towel was far away, and she was dripping wet. She stood for a while, shivering in one spot; letting the water fall to the floor. She was suddenly attacked by the cold. She hugged the towel. She had to make haste in getting dressed. Otherwise, the cold would get to her again. She did not want that. She regretted wetting her hair for a moment. It would take ages to dry. But, she knew there was no way she could refrain herself from the heavenly lather of shampoo she had mounded on her head just now.

She looked at her knuckles, they were still raw. Her nose was healed. She checked her ankles. They were cracking. She should tend to that. She lifted a foot, shook off the water from the large puddle she had created, and slathered on some lotion. That should hold things together for a bit, she thought. She was about to put down her foot, then decided against it. She shifted her weight nearer to the door where the puddle wouldn’t get to her lotioned foot. There was nothing worse than lotioned skin coming into contact with water. It made things all slimy and yucky. She gave things one last once-over, and exited the bathroom.