Showering Through Time
The light shined through the tiny gaps of the tainted blue curtains with elegant ribbon designs
beautifully sewn on it, with its light mildly reflecting off the shiny bathroom walls. The water in
the shower was running, with its pressure adjusted into sounding like little raindrops softly
hitting onto the porcelain floor. It felt like dancing in the summer rain with a loved one. The
water was warm, it felt like a hug that one would get in the peak of winter while they’re having
the sweetest hot chocolate, sitting by the old rustic fireplace. Although the water wasn’t too
hot, the mirror was fogged up like how children would usually exhale onto a window and draw
adorable little shapes using their stubby fingers. The towel was draped onto the slightly rusted
rack, patiently waiting for me to leave the shower and dry up. The towel was white, like those
kinds of fancy clean towels people would steal from highly rated hotels. Dirty clothes were piled
onto the floor, waiting to be placed into the filled-up laundry basket. It was pyjamas with those
cute kitty pattern etched onto the light pink shirt. The laundry basket was a sort of light muted
green, with a white cover that broke off of the basket itself since it was old. Countless tiny
bubbles formed on my head from the shampoo, slowly foaming more and more, trying to battle
against the drizzling water that was effortlessly washing it away.