Number 16 – Why do girls take so long in the bathroom

Cracking white neon bulbs.
Mirrors, others – they have tissues and mascaras in their bags. Mirrors, self – unwanted staring eyes no mascara on them. Pale ceramic – colors of a day of January. Bustle outside the female logo on the door – roaring city, an apiary.
My turn, dull hive breathe in, suck it in. Fingers looking for zips, bottoms, locks. Fingers caressing textures. Fingers encircling the brims of sexy, silly underwear.
Better caressing textures, denim, leather real leather, my skin. Better touching it only, imagining it. At its sight, it starts. Worrying on the curves of my backside. On the angles of my knees. On the propensity of my belly to create ring-shaped reminders of the chocolate I  didn’t deprive myself enough, on the amount of hair on my epidermis, my skin, a layer that can’t be taken off as those cheap trousers, I wish it could, retract, disappear, when facing the cold air, ceramic, my sight –  oh, it was easier with the latest piece of fashion on.
Breathe in, suck it in – long time before the urine meets the toilet. Too absorbed in thoughts, that self confident guy was disgusted by my flabby forearm no doubts, that blonde girl was noticing with satisfaction my curvy hips for sure. Bustle outside – there they are, talking about me. Shut my eyes, at least one of my senses can shut the world out. Breathe in, suck it in.
Under this cracking mirrors dull ceramic, my body, naked, the worries over it, amplify, double, sextuplicate, there’s not enough space in this room, now I need to rush, get out from here.
I didn’t realize I was taking this long.


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