ashes

"I've got the spookiest bathroom in the world! Spooky bathroom! Spooky!" I sang, then danced a little Tara-dance in my bare feet. Sitting on the closed toliet, cigarette in hand, I watched the Engineer obsessively map out dimensions and measurements until my brain boggled with so much Greek math. The main difference between he and I is the fact that I would just plug endless nails into the wall until I finally found the proper placement, then gripe how the crooked picture frames made me insane.

She'd kill me if she saw what I did to this room, I thought and wrapped my small smile around myself for warmth. She'd kill me, then laugh her ass off.

There are days when I never want to leave the safety of my bedroom. Soft, striped sheets and a purring cat lying on my back. The smell of tobacco and sandalwood incense. This is my security. This is my sanity. This is my coping mechanism.

Last night, I rolled the cold bronze remains of someone else's mother between my hands and played at being a forensic detective.