Wednesday, March 30, 2005

little pleasures 

I like taking a hot bath with a cold beer and room-temperature book.

I like dunking my head under the water and listening to the pop-pop-pop of the air escaping my ear canals. And listening to the strange amplification and distortion of sound underwater.
Like the downstairs neighbour's dog barking. Possibly at the sound only he can hear, me listening to him bark, me sloshing around, me hitting my head on the bottom of the tub because my muscle memory of these actions remembers the deeper tub of our Sacramento apartment. It had clawed feet.

I like rolling my head around on my neck and listening to the trapped water move inside my ears, like the air bubble in a contractor's level, as if everything else I am is water and the water is air.

I like bouncing on the balls of my feet with my head tipped to the side, alternating, to release the water, and the warm trickle of it.

Speaking of warm trickles, I like peeing on my feet in the shower. And practising my aim.


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