Pass me the shampoo, Frodo

I took a bath last night, in the dark, with only one lit candle as my companion. No music. Bubbles everywhere, the heating on, the steam filling up the room. I stood up to soap myself and saw my body reflected in the mirrors. I looked tanned and Roman. I squatted and dipped my hands into the water, to wash my face. It was as if I was in some shallow river, some wild man washing his face, cleaning away London's soot.

Then I lay there and thought about nothing, or something - but not anything important. I just stared at the candle, and let my body go. I could have been in ancient times, when the men went to giant baths and washed themselves with spring water. Or I could have been a man in the beginning of the 21st century, living in a tiny apartment in London, trying to recreate some magic in his life.

The heat dehydrated me, made my body go soft. Kevin knocked on the door to tell me food was ready. When I finally made it to the kitchen, I gulped down two glasses of cold water.

***

I've been reading a lot lately. Light up, light up.