Sincerely, S.H

Chapter 1

The air holds the distinct discomfort of cleaning products; a scent that is not so much a scent as it is an assault on all that allows ones nose to function for its intended purpose. My nose crinkles in not discomfort, but in exhaustion and annoyance at this constant state. It crinkles as if to day “If you absolutely must insist upon this routine, your legs are mine, but I want no other connection with you.” I understand these feelings that I imagine my nose would have. I’m sick of it too. Stephanie is cleaning the dorm room again. It must be Tuesday.

I step through the threshold, and the sterile odor attacked my olfactory sense before I was even within the closet sized home of my “learning experience,” I see the pile of sanitization equipment. No doubt a veritable wealth of industrial strength cleansing goo provided by a vender hoping to rid his establishment of a girl who found it necessary, nay, vital to the faith of humanity that the detergents be arranged alphabetically and not “all willy nilly.” Perhaps Stephanie, my roommate, acquired them be more normal means despite how the scenario plays out in my head. No matter, the trove of cleaners is here. Lucky me.

“Can you move the couch, Shauna?” she asks in a voice that suggested that the only answer she would tolerate from me would be the high pitched squeal of old wood on even older wood.

“No problem” I say needlessly as I drop my backpack onto the floor and proceed to realize that the moving of the furniture would require more effort than I anticipated. No wonder I spend an extensive amount of time sitting awkwardly in the courtyard on Tuesdays. My brawny man hands are perfect for doing the manly work in assisting in the sanitation process. After a moment and a grunt, I overcome the static friction and the couch moves. Satisfied, I grin up at Stephanie, who does not seem quite as proud of me as I am. She is not angry per se, but she merely gestures for me to push the couch further forward, consequently blocking the entrance to my room.

Couch aside, Stephanie begins to erase the very memories of the floor. Apparently the floor has had a rougher week than I because its habitual cleanse come between me and mine. I only require an hour long Skype chat with my sister, but the floor needs its lemon rub. I look to the couch, standing innocently, only a victim of confined space and its fair share of abuse. I look to my door directly behind the couch. I could touch it if I reached out, but my longing has not escalated into reaching out dramatically towards a door. Either way, the area behind door was unattainable due to the direction of the swing and the blockade. Finally, my eyes fell on the crouching gloved individual on the floor. With a sigh and the overflowing of water from my eyes caused by the chemicals, I decide to let this battle go unfought.

With resigned submission, I say “I’m going to Starbucks. Do you want anything?”

The dull whooshing of a scrubbing brush on the pail wood floor halted for a second as Stephanie stopped the rapid back and forth of the brush and looked up at me with confusion etched on every feature below her lemon yellow bandana. There was a moment’s pause as she realized that I was asking for her permission to take my leave. She shook her head as if to shake out the ridiculous notion I did not want to clean the communal room. The rapid back and forth head movement quickly turned into a vertical nod of understanding and almost appreciation as she realizes just how much she prefers her touch in cleanliness to mine. “No thanks,” she says.

On my way out, I retrieve my bag, and I feel Stephanie’s demeanor relax as I leave and take away the wrench that my presence had thrown into Stephanie’s order. With a long creak and a final click the barrier between my roommate and it allows for the flow of oxygen through my system. Nick should be getting out of his ten o’clock class pretty soon. Maybe he isn’t particularly busy. Or crazy. Yep, that is probably my best bet. So, I make my way down the hall, downstairs, and down the main street of campus before arriving in front of the Himmelberg Science building, because apparently physics is a required course, even for people who hate science with a passion.