A girl entered my bathroom.
She didn't knock. She didn't apologize.
She simply stylishly slid down the ceramic surface like a scintillating, sneaky serpent.
I didn't know what to say to her when she shook her long, blonde hair, removing the white bathrobe.
"It's hot." She remarked, closing the door behind her.
She approached and entered the bathtub with me as if it were hers.
She began to tell me all about the unpleasant situations she'd gone through with the drunken, libidinous uncle she had just murdered.
About the shitty damp-walled apartment on the ground floor of our building, filled with cockroaches.
About her fossilized, frigid landlady, who doesn't let her shower and waste hot water.
About the utopian vision she had regarding her future marriage to a moribund millionaire.
As you can surely imagine, my crotch cobra and I had a completely different kind of vision.
Yet, when I approached her, wishing to stroke her slippery skin, she retorted sharply:
"Only with the sponge."
After she finished bathing with my help, she got up, got out of the bathtub and put on her bathrobe.
"Thanks for letting me bathe here," she commented briefly.
Then she disappeared the same way she came, floating elegantly through the door of my bathroom.
***
A/N: Music theme song: Suzanne Vega: "Luka."
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Tiny Tales | ✔️
Short StoryThis book is a collection of numerous short stories I have created, both mini and midi ones, written in the period of the past twenty years. Some of them are award-winning entries in various micronarrative competitions. Others were adapted with the...
