Rest

Warm waterdrops fell on his neck and back like purifying streams taking his stress and worries away. It was almost as being unconscious. No, it was like being someone else, like living on another world. A world where he didn't have any acquaintances, a world where there was nothing but his geist and a warm sensation caressing his thoughts and taking him into a state of deep calmness. While enjoying this wonderful sensation, he continued to wash himself. First his hair, using just the exact amount of shampoo not to waste anything. Then the rest of his body, which he scrubbed with a sponge made of some Agave-like fiber (the one used to make ropes) and a skin-smoothing shower gel with cactus milk and a fragrance that reminded him of peppermint. He washed himself thoroughly, carefully, at an incredibly steady pace --absolutely no hurries needed, he thought. Shaved then his face and, after a quick rinse, stepped out of the shower.

Darkness poured through the window. Liquid smoke, eating all the light in the room, slowly filling all space available. Everything it touched became distorted, as if seen through a very dark glass.

He liked taking showers at night, that way, it wasn't necessary to think about all he had to do afterwards, and he was able to finally relax. The end of the day. Why not the end of everything? He thought to himself. The question went away, leaving just a tiny echo in his mind. He dryed himself up with his yellow towel. The towel she gave me, he thought, but shook the thought away almost immediately. He brushed his teeth and inspected himself on the mirror, a routine he had been doing for the most part of his life now --sometimes he would find a new gray hair on his head, but other than that he hardly noted any changes at all.

The darkness awaited patiently, moving ever so slowly, entertaining itself by doing little spiral-like figures inside itself, something that would remind someone of the drumming of fingertips on a table trying to fight the boredom away. Once in a while it would take a look through the door and then go back to its waiting. Always waiting...

He finished his relaxing ritual and put on the blue boxers and the black sleveless shirt he wore as pajamas. Then he gave his hair a last shake, turned off the lights and got out of the bathroom. Across the hall, in his room, darkness, like some great, big, fat, bleak fate, was waiting for him.

He was well aware of that.

After closing the bathroom door, as he walked calmly to his room, his heart never changed it's beating rhythm and his breathing kept always steady. He was just happy and relaxed to know that he was going to bed for one last time. He would finally get a rest. The bed looked comfortable, as always. The room, gloomy as it was, felt cozy and invited him to lay down and give up. So he did. Lying on the bed, eyes closed, he sighed and let go.

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