She watched him pick up a white towel from the carpet, wrap it around himself and head to the bathroom. She pulled a loose sheet and covered her chest with it. Through the slight opening of the bathroom door she could hear slow steady trickles of warm water fall onto his body, bounce off to the wall and onto the shiny tiles and through the hair stopper to the underground. Mist formed on the inside of the bathroom door and so did his form vanish in the cloud of white.
A stubborn tear rolled down her plump cheek, ignored the shiny dimple and headed for the soft mattress. She pulled the sheet to her face well aware that the chill was more resolved than the porous piece of cloth.
He thought about the past few minutes. The passion had been instinctive but far from mind encapsulating. It was never taught in geography class that volcanoes let off their strength in an embarrassing anticlimax. He came out of the bathroom and quietly got back into his clothes. He glanced at the bed and knew she was pretending to be asleep. Back in the car he drove off into the night. Off the radio, a high-pitched auto tuned voice melodized Akon’s first song. Both of them would have related.
She felt the empty space next to her, replaced it with a smiling plump shape of fur and sobbed to Hawaii.
$TOH
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