II. Overdue
Osmond palmed the glass and rolled his shower door along the squeaky tracks until its magnetic studs gripped the wall.
“Uh, let’s go with 40.5 degrees. I’ll need a little extra heat this morning. I’m still tired from that all-nighter.”
Water spewed in concentric circles above his head as he grabbed the squishy golden bar on the side of the shower wall. This was typically one of the few places Osmond felt he could flee to and embrace a placid atmosphere. While under the miniature torrent he could cease contemplating life’s troubles and free his mind of rigor. Here, he was the only body that occupied space.
“How about that one adagio I like? Y’know, the piece with all those strings? That one is always calming, and today is sure to be restless.”
Each corner of the entire bath
