Writing Challenge April: Date with Myself


As a preparation, I put a large cake on the garden table.
The pants where the elastic has to be sewn back are in the basement on the sewing table.
For emergency scenarios, the bank card is on the closet. My husband looks after the children.
I have a date with myself.
A foam bath is waiting for me, a pitch-black cup of coffee on the edge and a martiniglas filled with licorice and strawberries in the soap dish.
To create the right atmosphere, I drew a giant heart on the tiles of the bathroom wall with bright red lipstick.
My mobile phone is in the contact on the seat next to the bath, I'm just intelligent enough not to take it with me while charging.
In front of the bathroom window, I hung a black towel with skull, question of that weird brush with his telescope from over here.
not to give too much pleasure, and maybe even a very small bit to shock.
I turn on the playlist, the entire CD Showbiz by Muse can mercilessly reverberate through the bathroom, and step into the hot foam bath.
Slowly I lower myself into the water, back, shoulders, neck, until I feel the water slide over my eyelashes, the mascara applied especially for the occasion - and far too richly - runs out mercilessly as I bring my head back above the water.
Enjoying the music, coffee and sweets, and especially the presence of just myself, I feel my imaginary pink street jacket and my unicorn hat fall off me.
Away from the glitter world of the coronaquarantine era. Just a minute.