Mr. Bubbles’ Lament

Rubber DuckIf only there were a way to convince her to take more baths, he thought as Tova turned the showerhead to the right.  Showers meant nothing for him but a long gaze through the mess of purple product bottles as she hastily soaped and rinsed.  When she took a bath, everything slowed down.  She read a magazine and lazily turned the hot water handle with her toe to keep the water steamy.  He could float by her face and “accidentally” bump her, causing her to giggle and bat him away.  He could drift by her hair, smelling the fragrance carefully left behind by the purple products.  But showers?  There was nothing for him in showers.  No kneecaps or dainty toes or possibility of being caught under her armpit, for however brief a moment.  Instead of bubbles, just scum left behind on the shower floor.

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This entry was posted in A Dying Dream, Animals, Character, Cleanliness, Love, Relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

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