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?