The water pouring from the faucet gushes over my toes, a gentle massage. The tub is filled nearly to the brim, the surface of the water undulating from my movement. I switch off the tap, and settle down into the hot, scented water.

I lift my legs, relishing in the feeling of weightlessness. The window beside me is already fogged over, and I watch as a single droplet on the glass slowly descends, leaving a path of visibility in its wake. I see my city through it—its cold, cloudless sky juxtaposing the bathroom’s steamy interior. I smile, lazily tracing shapes onto the glass.

bath Superthumb bath cold
K.G.