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A Snowy Slumber, Part 1

Amanda's shower was better than mine. It was the kind that had those nozzle-y patches that will vigorously sprinkle you down left, right and center like a carwash for humans. It was warm already the moment I pulled the lever on, and with the grime and dirt spilling down my bare skin, I also felt my fatigue gradual being siphoned off of my body before being swirled down the drain. 

Hit a bit of a snag when it came to the foam and bubbles routine. Three silver trays jutting out of one corner, and all three were completely depleted of space with bottles and boxes for days in all kinds of shape and sizes. It was like I was I was staring at an all-you-can-scrub buffet of soaps, shampoos, and conditioners of every brand. 

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