As close to an honest story as I'm capable of. #flashfiction #shortstory https://t.co/wlp2YyEJw3 https://t.co/blT4yyxljz (2 days ago)

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Mar
2

H2Omg this is dumb

I’m standing there in the shower drying my head and suddenly wondering if I’d dried my lower extremities yet. My eyes are closed and the towel is vigorously rubbing my hair and for the life of me I can’t remember if I had started low and dried up or I was starting at my head and going down.

I kept my eyes closed and tried to feel any wetness on my legs or stomach…

Impossible to tell.

You’d think if they were at all wet I would feel it so I started to suspect that I had indeed dried off the southern-most points but if I had I was finding it hard to believe I wouldn’t remember such drying. It was still humid in the shower so there just wasn’t any way of knowing without checking and somehow that made me feel like I was losing my mind a little bit.

Then I realized I had over-dried my hair. My scalp went from saturated to downright thirsty.

Which made me think of that poor little weed I fucked over the other day.

I was moving this toy house off of a deck and out of the way so I threw it over to a little patch of ex-garden that wasn’t being used. You know the little houses kids play in that are 1/10th scale and have the 2 little windows they can open and shut? The deck was needed so I jumped in and offered to help out and get rid of that giant plastic thing.

Anyway, when I finally lowered it to the dirt I noticed I had sat it right down over a big weed that had grown up where flowers and such use to be. I wonder if on some level it looked up at the house and wondered if it had finally hit the big time and whether or not its friends would notice that it now lived in a house. If it did it would soon realize that inside this big plastic house it would get no sun and no water and would die a slow painful death.

Ah the trappings of success.

So instead of doing the merciful thing and just yanking it up I left it there to die in its own plant mansion/prison.

The whole time I was remembering this little story I was also continuing to rub my head dry which then led me to wonder if my hair was also wondering what the fuck it had done to me to deserve this type of abuse.

So this weed is off dying someplace, my hair is way too dry and I still can’t figure out if my belly and feet are dry or if I still have some work to do before emerging from the shower.

Another busy day.

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