creative writing: water

His feet touched the ground after half an hour of intensive flying. The wings of the little plane made of durable metal covered the sun for a minute. He looked up at the sky. It was turning pink. He took off his sunglasses and fixed his sight on a large flight of mosquitos that was quietly buzzing a few yards away. How fast, how gross, how unimportant they were to him. He could smell the melting asphalt and admired the perfect straight lines of white paint, the arrows and the black wheel marks that spoiled the flawlessness and yet made it so perfect. Made it so human. The airport was almost empty. There were about four other planes, same as his, spread across the hangar in comfortable distances. He felt good. He always did after flying.

“Time to go Mark” It was the voice of the co-pilot. Mark hated him for it, for spoiling his moment. He grabbed his bag and started walking towards the tower. There was only a couple of things he needed to do before he was done for the day. He opened the door and took the steps, two at a time. The remains of the ecstasy were still there. Once he was inside the tower room he got undressed. He grabbed the plain white towel that smelled of bio wash and proceeded to the bath shower. He liked the feeling of water on his skin. A hot shower would recharge him. He stood there, the water flowing and slowly flooding the bath. He turned the tap to the hottest temperature. The water started to burn his skin, leaving it red and irritated. He just stood there watching the steam move under his breath, watching the drops slide down the glass and disappear forever. He decided to take his time and plugged the bathtub. It was filling up quickly.

Mark lied down. He was looking outside the window, staring at the the pink sky. It was open and there was a little air draft. It got tangled up in his hair with a soft whistle. He let his mind wander off. He felt at peace. The bath was full now but Mark didn't stop the water. His thoughts were too loud for the silence that would arrive. It was like the sound of rain. The bath was large and he started sliding down, inch by inch. He submerged.

Everything is amplified underwater. Everything sounds different. Mark's eyes were closed so that he could fully focus on the sound. He tapped his fingers on the sleek walls of the bath changing the rhythm every few seconds. He unsealed his mouth and let out an air bubble. He opened his eyes and focused them on the white ceiling and the yellowness of the bathroom light. It was blurry. His eyes started to sting and he could feel them getting red from the chlorine. He blinked a couple times. It was the only movement he now allowed himself. He was holding still so that the motion of his body wouldn't cause the water to plop. All he wanted to hear was the murmuring tap. He turned his brain off and it became blank. Clean.

Mark felt strangely disconnected from his body. He could still feel the little wavy movement of the water on his skin. It was like silk. Almost not there. Invisible shield. His lungs started filling up with water. It slowly creeped in tingling his insides. It was painful at first but then it didn't matter. He was lying there defencelessly with no protection on hand. He took a deep watery breath and closed his eyes.

It was like he had fallen asleep.