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Prophecy |
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| It’s kind of weird how things happen. You wake up and you stumble out of bed. You almost fall over as you’re overstepping the clutter of clothing from another drunken night that litters the pathway leading towards the toilet. You're standing in front of the mirror rubbing the crud out of your eyes when you notice a beautiful, naked woman sitting in your bathtub, smoking a cigarette, buried up to her chin in bubbles. One of her arms is dangling over the side of the basin as the cigarette slowly burns its way towards her fingertips. She’s painted her nails black, but the paint has been chipped away. You notice that she has very slender fingers, and that she holds her cigarette like an actress, or a hand model. Her eyes are closed, and you’re thinking that maybe she is sleeping, or that maybe she is dead, or maybe she isn't even really there at all and you’re still asleep and dreaming. It happened like that to me. I stopped, startled, and even let out a little gasp of surprise. "What the fuck?" I asked. Intelligent question, I know. "I was wondering the same," she replied, without opening her eyes. A moment passed, during which I stared at her while she didn't move at all, so reached for and grabbed a towel, and then brutishly thrust it in her general direction. The initial absurdity of the situation diminished in return for a more general sense of awkwardness. I couldn’t remember who she was or how she arrived there, even if my life depended on it. But there I was, rudely gawking at her, and there she was, taking a bath and smoking a cigarette. She still hadn’t opened her eyes. |