The shower ceiling is barely above my head, droplets of water stinging my skin like pins. I have to bend in half to enter, my shoulders brushing against the plastic walls, the noise echoing like thunder. The water coming out of the showerhead is a weak trickle on my back, I try to adjust the temperature with my pinky, but it feels like touching a toy.
A sigh escapes me, a deep sound that vibrates the walls. What I wouldn t give for a waterfall shower, or better yet, a dip in a lake. But for now, this tiny cubicle is my refuge. I bend forward, trying to wet my hair. The water flows over my forehead like a mountain stream, the drops falling to the ground like bullets.
I lather my arm, using enough shower gel for an entire family. The scent of lavender fills the air, a small comfort in this claustrophobic space. I rinse, water splashing everywhere, like a tropical storm.
Finally, it s time to get out. I straighten up slowly, my head brushing the ceiling. I have to be careful not
