The Bath :: Creative Writing Essays

The Bath       Johnny woke up, shivered, put on his robe over his sweats, got back got back under the covers and went to sleep. Two hours later, the alarm by the TV woke up a still chilly Johnny Black.    Johnny turned on the shower and used the plug from the kitchen sink to fill the bathtub up. He got in, turned the water up till it was a little more than warm, then lay down under the hot, pounding stream from the shower head. The water always seemed to cool off by the time it hit the tub -- maybe because of the cool air in the room. Well, soon the room would warm up as it filled with the hot water vapor pouring out of the glass shower.    Johnny put his hands under his head and lay back all the way so the water filled his ears. Now he heard the shower hitting the water in the tub from underwater. Everything seemed a lot quieter now. Johnny felt tired and dizzy and glad to be motionless, resting, quiet. Everything felt perfect. The water landing was still a little warm, but the water filling the tub was the perfect temperature. Johnny couldn't think how he could be happier -- maybe if he didn't have to go to work in an hour, but right now that seemed a long way off.    Johnny closed his eyes and rested peacefully, slipping in and out of a half dream of floating through warm liquid clouds.    Suddenly, Johnny felt very cold. Something was wrong. He was no longer tired, but he couldn't tell why.   As he opened his eyes, he became aware of the fact that the temperature around him was much cooler than it had been a moment ago -- not cold, but not the perfect, dreamy bath he had gotten used to. As soon as he started to look around, his mind absorbed exactly what was wrong. It had been hours since he had closed his eyes. The bathtub had overflowed a long time ago and the bathroom floor was flooded! The carpets were soggy, and the room had a stuffy smell to it.    Somehow, Johnny felt in no hurry to do anything. It was clear that this had gone on so long that a few more minutes wouldn't hurt anything. John gazed up at the bathroom window, a skylight he had built himself years ago.There it stood, miles above his head. Johnny suspected it was about noon.   He could feel how pruned his hands   were, with wrinkles all over.   He could hear scratching on the