There's that eerie feel again. One a.m. shower. It feels like I’m living inside an indie film.
My typically dull senses seem amplified. Each shower drip takes a note when each hit the cheap tiles...an ethereal re or an unfamiliar sol and the re-sol, re-sol sequence replaces a supposedly enya-tic musical score if it were a commercial movie as the director's shaky hands point the camera to the semi-dusty fluorescent bulb to cue an abstract end.