On bathroom tiles

Out bathroom floor had seen more clawmarks and debris than most bathrooms. Or maybe it’s just me again, romanticizing the cool kisses of water cascading down my back as I try to pick up the fallen rubble, rearranging them into what they used to while they crumple softly through my fingertips.

That’s when I noticed. For the very first time in 3 years,  that our bathroom tiles are cerulean. I stared long and hard at them beneath my feet -much paler now- quite appalled. Droplets hit off them cleanly, running straight down the drain which had turned slightly orange with rust. I stopped picking at the rubble to trace every edge of one bathroom tile with a toe.

Aaah, how long have I been living in my head again?

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Published by

cie miraflor

A Filipino at heart and a Thomasian in spirit. A vocalist. A bookworm. A chocoholic. A liar. A dreamer. A coffee addict. A writer of poetry and short stories. A pending Information Technologist. A frustrated programmer. Blinded with love for Batman.

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