Apocalypse of Jude

Audrey lies in the bath, inhaling the steam and letting it become tears falling from her eyes. Green and orange candles glow fuzzily in the vapour and soften the mournful mood in her. Behind the bath’s copper taps, on its ample tiled edge, a gnarled piece of drift wood lies, its one rising end carved into a dolphin. The bath, the room, the shelter are all foreign to her, yet form the sense of a haven to her. A soft clatter of plates and music echoes from beyond. She washes the water over her body, giving her surfaced skin the golden sheen of candle light.

There’s a light knock at the door. “Audrey. Dinner’s almost ready.”

She plunges beneath the surface and stays, hair entangling the meniscus in a fray of golden light, then she’s above again, pulling the same light hair back into its heavy beauty dazzling from the sheen of candlelight. She rises and steps from the water then dries and clothes herself.

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 34