Week 11: Shower Shame and Ladybugs

20 Feb

There they were.

Frozen in time and space, dust floating lazily between the air they shared in that steamy room, combining carelessly with the water, created mud.

What a murky situation.

She didn’t know what to cover up first, her bare thighs that were anything but childish anymore, her shapely breasts with bright pink nipples that demanded attention due to her milky complexion or perhaps her hips and surrounding patches of skin. In a wayward motion, she covered her bony knees, one hand on each knee. Like she was covering a gash, a dirty word written on a notebook from a teacher,  a horrifying defect.

Her father, frozen with a firm, regrettable grasp of the door handle, only looked at her for a moment before awkwardly putting an egg in his shoe and beating it. In that instant of eye-contact, her just getting out of the shower, soaked, him disheveled, embarrassed and perfectly dry, all of existence took place. The birth, the life and the death all that was, is and will be. The Bing Bang was the sound of her slapping her knees with her wet palms, both inexplicable, evolution of our species was him swallowing the knot in his throat after laying eyes on her oh too exposed flesh. Apocalypse came when their eyes finally met and the information sunk in, in the form of meteorites, glaciers and lava, rivers of it, overflowing, the planet chocking on its own juices.

Blink.

Oh the humanity, they both thought.

SLAM went the door behind him, no words uttered, no additional exchange, not counting the absolute, the alfa and omega, the quintessence of it all. But it had been enough, thank you.

After a few seconds of not performing a gesture, she finally recovered her composure and her hands were free once more, no longer holding the fate of the world on their.. shoulders. They were midair, flipping her hair from side to side, checking for lumps, tracing curvaceous lines, irregardless of the panic going on upstairs, the control center, her brain. They were on autopilot now.

Her knees, just as bony as before, unaffected by the events, were now the evident home of two little ladybugs, one for each member of the party. Colourful, bright, brimming with spunk.

Nevermind chest! Nevermind thighs! The universe was at peace, for her inky secrets had yet to be divulged.

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