She picks up the toothbrush and stares at her reflection in the mirror. So lost. So unfamiliar a face.
The stream of warm tap water gushes through the faucet as she runs the toothbrush under it.
Clumsily she picks up the almost empty tube of tooth paste and squeezes the meager leftover bits onto the frayed bristles.
The repeated motion of the ups and downs of the toothbrush against her teeth lull her into a false sense of security until she looks at the mirror again to see the perplexed look on her face.
So real.
But why. Why does she have these dreams. Dreams of impossible lives. Dreams that feel so real that the sensations tingle on her skin even after she wakes. Why here. Why now?
She forces herself to look away from the mirror, to stop analyzing the reflection that she can’t comprehend, spits out the foam and gargles.
The images from her dreams flash through her head in a quick jerky montage.
Stop it, she tells herself.
Let go.
She strips herself of her pajamas and walks into the shower. Naked and cold, she turns the valve for the hot water and lets the water fall gently from the shower head onto her hair, which trails down to her skin. And for twenty minutes, her hair and skin enjoys the soft caresses of warm water.
Entry @ 4:06 AM;
Saturday, December 19, 2009