Pneumonia’s licked. Or whatever it was that stunted my breathing. It left almost as soon as it came. Nice to know my immune system’s still working.
Sat in the bath earlier this afternoon. Forced myself to do it. I smelled like Byron’s syphilis. I took my time folding myself into the tub. I inevitably spilled water, but not too much. I sank into the water. I’d locked the door. I needed the privacy for once.
It had snowed the previous night and I felt the cold hulking around me, circling me through the walls and the ceiling. The steam rising from the water dizzied me. I let my head fall back under the water. I closed my eyes, then opened them to the distant wavering ceiling. I let a few bubbles escape my mouth. My limbs, now relaxed, hovered. The privacy thrilled me. Made me ache. I let a few more bubbles out and thought, This is my depth. This is as far as I can go—to the bottom of this bathtub, in this bathroom, in seven inches of water.
I came up for air and went back under. The heat gently gripped my head and face. I had only one tremor and knocked my elbow on the edge of the tub. I stayed until the water went cool. Then I clambered out of the tub and dried myself off.