37. The Drain

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I feel the soft patter of water on my head. I look up at the small holes that project the only light I can see. Water is coming through, raining on me. Ahh, it feels wonderful.

The water isn't 'clean' though. It contains all the dirt and sweat from your busy day. I stick my tongue out, tasting you.

Then comes my favourite part. You clean your hair, and some pieces come out. They travel through the holes, landing next to me.

I scrape them up, moving to put them with the rest. I have a large collection of them. I've been collecting them since you were young, I have enough now to make a wig out of them.

The water ceases, and you leave the view of my holes. I place your hair on my head, strands falling on my face. I inhale deeply, smelling you.

I can only wait until you shower again, so I can show you my new hair.

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