Dismantle Repair

Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you

It's Monday,
And it's 7:29pm. I just hopped in and out of the shower with a hundred, no a thousand, thoughts in my head. I sat on the corner of my shower cubicle, watching all the mist rise past me, leaving me on Earth to join the clouds. I stayed until I was completely dry.

I dried my hair, and played with my fringe. "How will it look like if I position it to the left? Oh no, that looks horrible. Let's try the right... Nopes. That's horrible too. I wish I'd had never cut it this short." I got dressed, put on my Superman Escape souvenir t-shirt from Movie World. I closed my eyes and sighed.

I reopened them after a couple of seconds and contemplated my eyes for a bit, "Gosh, they're tiny". I contemplated my nose, lips, cheeks, eyebrows, hair and face until contemplating turned into criticising. I stopped and looked in my bathroom mirror, I took a deep breath. I looked behind me to my bedroom mirror, and took another deep breath. The music playing in the background is overwhelming me. I feel as though I could drop, and something mystical would catch me. I thought twice about testing it; the cons outweighed the pros.

I walked down the stairs, slowly and unsteadily. My knees trembling as though I've never seen a flight of stairs before. I realised, "Have I been in the shower long enough for my bones to soften? Hold the rails darling."

I was in semi-desperate need to get all these thoughts out of my head. There were so many of them, I could swear I felt my head spin. I need to go for a walk, I need a distraction. I need to get out of here.
It's 7:40pm.