Episode One: Bathroom Continued

[Look at toothbrush]

The bristles are well-worn - and flange outward. Although given the Amazonian orientation of your teeth - it's barely a surprise.

It's purple. That's your favorite color. Fun fact.

[Look at toothpaste]

An almost-full tube of toothpaste. When you squeeze it, the toothpaste comes out in three stripes - blue, green and white.

You slept at somebody's house once and remember that their toothpaste came out all green... and it chilled you to the very core.


[Look at razor]

Three blades, for maximum comfort. You saw an advertisement for a four-blade razor recently.

Eventually, it will be a perfect sphere of razors and lubricating strips, and you'll have to bounce it off the bathroom wall and let it slide over your face to get:

"The closest shave you have ever experienced".

[Look at shaving cream]

You just wanted shaving cream. Nothing that smelled like anything. Nothing that did anything. It should just cushion the application of razor-to-skin.

This is close. It comes out as foam. It doesn't smell like anything in particular.

But you regard it with suspicion nonetheless.

[Look at mirror]

You have no idea how to clean a mirror. If you did, you might. As it is - after every shower, you take one wet hand and force a moderately clean streak down the middle of the mirror.

[Use mirror]

There you are. You assume. You are always hesitant to regard that doppelganger as you.

You don't remember getting so old. And you certainly don't feel so tired. And you're concerned with how bloodshot that eye is getting.

You straighten your hair a little. Re-orient your eyebrows.

There. Sense of self: Achieved.


[Use mirror]

You know who you are.

Plus, you're slightly frightened that if you use the mirror again, you'll see somebody entirely different. And you don't have the tolerance or motivation required to re-orient yourself to a whole new sense of self.