There is always that incessant noise.

The sound of dirtied water from the tap leaking,escaping.The brownish suds plopping onto porcelain,fleshing themselves out before slinking into the drain again and again and again, like children down plastic slides.

I watched the recurrent motion with a world's worth of fascination before adding to the steady rhythm with my own unbalanced harmony-pressing the pads of my fingers down onto the sink then moving them just enough to create clumsy, lop sided notes which squeaked as rubber does between a dogs jaws.

The accumulation of dissonant sound felt almost achrosonic to the instrument of my ear, and only served to arouse the distress in my asymmetric conscience.

A shadow in my peripheral caught my eye though, that was never an unusual occurrence for me.I had looked up into the mirror- expecting to see the bedraggled and peregrine-grey face of the man i had become; instead i saw a boy. He was murmuring words in a fog and i knew not by vision or coherence that he was confessing to me, forcing me to bear the fruit of his sin on my bare branches.

The blood beneath my skin throbbed as if it were suffering direct persecution and in agreement the familiar vein at my temple twitched like the restless little sprite it had always been.

I pratically cursed my bodies trifles as I forcefully groped the sweat from my pores and mustered my feebleness into a facade of impartiality, then adressing the visage of my boyhood, I spoke.

"Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? You and I both know we’re not here for small talk.”