Tomato Soup

A tomato soup smell arises from his armpits. I inhale. It’s oddly nice. I feel comforted; soothed. As I snuggle up inside the nook of his folded arm, I breathe deeper. I am at home. I could die right now, I think and I would die happy. I wish I could save this moment in time and not move on. Just stay here in its safety, in this haven. Sleep soon washes over me and I awake unwrapped from his arms. He has gone. I stretch out over the crumpled covers and yawn. I immediately curl up in the fetal position, to try and capture that safe feeling.

My alarm buzzes. I hit snooze. Again. My heart sinks as I roll on to my other side and edge myself to the end of the bed. I sit up and sigh. Bloody Mondays. I will have to have a wee now, take a shower, brush my teeth, brush my hair and then style it, apply make-up, dress for work and slip on uncomfortable shoes to walk me to the station. I will board a train full of other people who don’t want to be there and be taken to an office and undertake a job I have no interest in doing. I am already longing for the journey back to here, back to bed with my lover and snuggling into the crook of his neck and inhaling the scent of his armpits. I get out of bed and look in the bathroom mirror. My face is creased. I swipe a cotton wool pad with toner over my skin. The warm water drenches my body as I stand under the rose and I wait for it to become boiling hot, then swirl the dial to cold and shiver under the blast of freezing water over me. Back to warm and then I turn it off. I wrap myself in a large fluffy towel - I wish - it's actually scratchy as I no longer have a tumble dryer but I daydream of the days when I used to dry with a fluffy towel. I slather body lotion up and down my limbs as I hum a tune. My brain can’t locate which one but it cheers my mood, so I carry on. I pad back to the bedroom to where the clothes I have laid on the bed are waiting for me. Item, by item, I begin to dress. Sitting in front of the mirror, I smear face cream, foundation, concealer, eye shadow, mascara, lip balm and pencil my eyebrows. I’m coloured in. I smile at myself, at my reflection. She smiles back. I wrap a hotbrush around my hair to curl it. I grab my phone and shove it into my bag, along with my purse and keys. I take a brief look behind me and slam the front door behind me. Off I go out into the world, longing to come back.