Afternoon Affair
I hear him gargling. Rinse, spit, clear his throat and, gargle again. He repeats it several times. It was always the same, every time, this purification ritual. I heard the water run in the shower. I hated this.
Was what just happened between us so dirty? Impure…unhygienic to him, that he has to go through such a lengthy cleansing process?
I, on the other hand, would long for him after he had gone… smell his scent on my pillow, on the bed sheet, in the air of this stuffy room, on my body because, at the end of the day that was all I was left with… his scent. I shifted on the bed. My body was covered in sweat; the creaky old ceiling fan didn’t provide any relief from the heat and humidity of the room. I felt my entire life was like that creaking old ceiling fan, constantly moving without really going anywhere… around and round.
This short story was written by A. K. for PinK ink.
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