Bittersweet Ritual

I’ve started taking lukewarm baths after my long runs on Sundays. The first time I did this a few weeks ago I realized I hadn’t taken a bath in years. As I rested my achy legs under the water, it came to my mind that when I was little, my mother would take very hot, very long bubble baths, often for an hour, or even longer. Sometimes I would come into the bathroom and strip all my clothes off, watch the steam rising from the foam, and dip my toes into the scorching water until I was able to get my legs in and sit down behind her. I would draw together handfuls of suds and coat her back, which was already covered with thousands of freckles, and draw pictures of hearts and stars and my name in cursive through them with my finger, while she sat there curled up and silent, with her head resting on her knees and her eyes closed, like a statue.

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About A B

"There is all this untouched beauty, the light, the dark, both running through me." -Over The Rhine
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