The water pools at her neck filling and stretching the latex. The bulge pulls the sticky membrane from sweaty skin. The water slips down under the catsuit warming and washing the body. It soon fills the tight socks and starts to bloat the rubber suit becoming a body shaped water balloon. Slippery, oily gloss mixes with water, dripping through the crotch zipper running down her legs. The shower echoes with splashes as she moves disturbing gouts of water from the suit. ...
Consider dust. In the slant light of the late afternoon, dust motes drift lightly on the turbulent currents of air. Winking in and out of sight like stars in the sky. Tiny worlds that exist for a moment in time to be lost in shadow. The capricious turns of invisible forces dictate the fate of each individual atom. Predictable in general, though chaos for the single. Dust inside the home is largely the shed flakes of skin from the humans that inhabit the space. The Carbon of which it is composed, is the cast off dust of dead stars. The Universe, energy and matter, compacted into the tiny bedroom. A cool breeze comes through the open window disturbing the stuffy air. The light drapes made to flap with a soft rustle. Outside the world buzzes and hums with life going on as it does. ...