TheStormCellar (thestormcellar) wrote in paragraph_a_day,

Slipping down

Warm water washed away soapy suds which sluiced softly, slowly down her back. She loved her shower. It was the one place where she could think without disruption or disturbance. The constant spray beat against her back, her arms, her head, and she simply stood still and let her mind wander with the swirls of water washing past her toes and down the drain. No sound but the hush of the shower, and the occassional squeak of her feet against the bottom of the tub as she turned. The water and steam coursed down her face, her neck, her chest, her stomach, her hips, her legs, and she knew that she would gladly pay the high water bill yet again.
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