Slow, it was all very slow and measured and the tones of all their voices were similar.
They’d spent a lot of time together?
The intonation was very pleasing to them, as when people like the same colour. They had chosen a pitch and stuck with it.
It bothered me slightly, in the showers amongst the steam. Were they meant to be uniform?
Bothered you, like the birds that shriek and never chew, just swallow.
Scrunching up her nose They sneaked, as if performing exercises that would better define their shadows. I did not watch, rather I ogled as they rubbed one another’s backs, soap and foam creating marbled ripples on naked bodies. Stands and becomes physically involved in her descriptions
They were proud; proud of themselves and of each other.
It is funny the way they grabbed at their flesh, as if to make sure the brilliance of their composition is real. Not a mirage.
Who is the leader?
Shaking her head They were so slow, so slow I could barely make out their faces.
Are you having a dream?
Batting away the questions with her hands Why can’t I move the bar of soap over my body as they do? I am too fast, too repetitive.
I cannot form ripples.
I cannot form.
I am not part of them.
With this toothbrush I wish I could glide across my crooked dental structure and make the shapes they do, in the showers, amongst the steam….
You already said that!
What?
You already said that, at the beginning. About the shower and the bodies and the steam. We already know.
Who is ‘we’?
Us?
But, who are you?
I am here next to you, listening to you. I have been responding? All this interrogation, this whole conversation is a bit tiresome, don’t you think?
I just want to be like the people in the showers, I want to be able to move and form a whole as they do.
I cannot form.
A whole? If everyone felt whole there would be no yearning, no…effort? Can you think?
I mean, really place a fine tooth comb back over your life to a time when you were really persistent?
You just didn’t give up.
I find that I persisted with people, with friends, lovers. Never say…die.
But they can be so complicated, but somewhat more tangible, attractive a pursuit then, say, the future.
That loams over ones head, heavy and different and angry.
Angry because it thinks you will splinter its smooth surface with mistakes and tangents.
But, for me to persist is just to watch?
Oh, you bore me.
So these people, these figures are they sexy?
They’re beautiful.
Sexy?
Perfect.
What were they doing? What were you doing? Did they notice you watching? Do you like the feeling of being watched?
So... watching them; is that like having a shower and watching television at the same time? Or reading porn on a tightrope?
What?
I am just raising the stakes.
