My Lucid Reality

It all began with one sound, steady, comforting, the falling of water, this wasn’t the random pitter patter of the rain, this fell steady and with more pressure behind it.  The high pitch sound of the water streaming from the shower head was unmistakable, and in it’s own way the white noise drown out the thoughts that kept blowing through my mind.  This wasn’t enough, the insanity was too strong for just some white noise, in the background I turned off the lights, this helped, nothing like the dim blue haze of darkness clouding it all, the scene was started but not yet begun, candlelight, and music, and suddenly I was somewhere entirely different as the water began to rinse the thoughts out of my mind.

The room was lit by candlelight, changing the tile walls and floor from a thing of planned luxury to one of mysterious comfort, the sound of the falling water reflected off the walls, the sound echoed as it combined with the noises in the room.  At first the quiet pressure from the showerhead threatened to break through the noise in my head, I had to breath, I had to remember who I was.  I stepped forward, each step was difficult, unloading my thoughts and emotions was a labor I was unprepared to face, I stepped forward further.  The robe lay about my shoulders, falling easily around me, the humidity in the room from the falling water, and the feel of the fabric were thoughts a mile away from me.

I knew why I was here, I knew what would happen, but it didn’t make letting go of my thoughts any easier.  The water touched my feet, my robe hung casually from a hook, I stepped forward.  This shower room was large, the sounds carried as soft music began to play; once again a distraction, but my mind would not be released.  In the middle of the oversized bathe directly under the spout was a chair, a comfortable bath chair, with arm rests and a high enough back to lay down on.  I sat, finding it difficult to trust myself enough to lay back fully.  The water continued to pour, each drop dancing off my skin, my face, my shoulders, my hair quickly turned wet and I sighed with the warmth that refused to penetrate. 

I had been like this before, I was told my shields were up, I could feel it now, like a spaceship from some sci-fi show it felt like nothing was getting in, nothing could hurt me, nothing could upset me, and nothing could get out.  I echoed a cold that the warmth could not penetrate, and for a moment I wondered that the water streaming down my arms was not frozen. 

The air changed, humid, misty, and suddenly scented, had I not been sitting it would have knocked me off balance… such a sweet and seductive vanilla, as though watching the tide recede before a wave the smell preceded the angel that walked into this room.  Descriptions are unnecessary, just imagine someone whose very sight makes you breath.  My shields aren’t so easily taken down, but I did smile with a light of hope towards someone who might try.  Laying back I tried to remember to breath as the water fell around me, the direction of the flow changed and it focused more on my hair, the room warm with steam I felt exposed, and tense… then pressure on my scalp.

There are few sensations that overcome all thought, having skilled and tender fingers trace through your scalp with some high quality shampoo is one of them.  I tried to remain tense as the angel washed the angst from my hair, the touch continued down my neck to my shoulders, with every touch a jolt would flash through me, forcing my muscles to relax, the jolt not a literal thing, but as though my body were being reminded that not only are there other people out there, but how dare it forget such a basic truth.  The hands on my shoulders pressed them down, and I hadn’t even known how tense I was.  I breathed again, at once free to think.  The scalp massage was deep, the shampoo made my head tingle, the sounds, the steam, the world… my shields melted, and as the water pushed the suds away, I felt a pain flow aside with it.

I like this story, I think in all my life I’ve only met one person who doesn’t like to have their head massaged.  Being that angel in the story is actually one of my lost callings, I wish at times I could open up a shop where that’s all I would do.  Create a relaxing atmosphere, and wash hair.  (Oh that there were a market for that)

I’d love it if you could share your thoughts on this story with me.