Transgressions Not Yet Adequately Apologized For

Posted: September 24, 2012 in Uncategorized

The transparency, the fluidity of the water spiked down from the shower head, collected briefly near Victor’s feet, then slid its way into the darkness of the drainpipe, going somewhere he genuinely did not care to imagine. He just stared down at the silver perforated circle between his toes and he thought about the things he was washing off of himself. Dirt, dead skin, oils, remnants of events and of a person he no longer wanted to be. The shower was ceremonial, it was a metaphorical and a literal cleaning of his self so that he might become something new once he emerged: a pink-skinned phoenix in a jungle green towel, shaving the tiny hairs from along his jawline and wiping the crusts of sleep from the corners of his eyes. He could never fix the chemicals that he shed in that vinyl enclosure, he could only abandon them, atone for their mistakes, and hopefully people could see that his hair was neater, his odor perfumed, and they could forgive him. They could forgive him and the thousands of other men he had been before he stripped naked, stepped over the edge of the basin, and turned the dial on his second-chance chamber from chilly blue to the red of reborn blood.

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