So I promised myself I'd start doing a little writing each day. And you, my dear... obeservers? whatever - you get to bear the results. Sounds good, eh?
He had just stopped. Not in a dead kind of way, barely even a bad kind of way. A thoughtful kind of way. Where had he stopped? That was very important, so I shall tell you where he stopped, and it will go a long way to explaining his thoughtfulness.
He had stopped half in and half out of the shower. That is to say, scalding water was even now running down his back, forcing heat into him; and the chilling cold of the atmosphere cut through his chest, hiding in its cloak of steam. And in him, they raged, not a war but a continuing calamitous cocophony, and he had lost all focus on everything as it filled his senses beyond filling. He could have laughed at the allegory, or even just forgotten and kept moving, but instead he simply stood stock still, and thought.
At least, until the hot water ran out.
-There, that wasn't so bad now, was it? Well, it's over now. I'll give you warning next time I pull a stunt like that, promise!