This is a short story I wrote a couple of years back. For anyone who can find the time, please read and comment (and don't feel like you have to say nice things -- I'm more interested in knowing how I can improve my work than in being patted on the head).
Also, after you've read it, please answer the following question: Why does Melissa refuse to take the shampoo?
The woman whose husband I’d had sex with the week before pushed my head back under the water. Clouds of melon-scented steam curled around my face. Across the aisle, a row of hairdryers craned their necks, as though eavesdropping on the conversation at the sinks. Above the dryers, on a 20-inch TV set, Kenneth Starr barked “no comment” as reporters swarmed him, demanding a preview of the document that might unseat the 42nd President of the United States.
“Too hot,” I said to Tina, thinking she had every right to want to scald me, even if she didn’t know it.
“Sorry.” Tina’s penciled eyebrows drew together as she adjusted the tap. “Better?”
I nodded. She scrubbed at my scalp with her neatly trimmed fingernails. Beneath my neck, the rim of the sink was hard and unyielding and I bunched my shoulder muscles against the discomfort.
“Relax,” she said.
To read the rest of the story, please click here.