Chapter 14

Like an expectant father he paced across the tile floor, running his left hand up and down his right arm, trying to think of anything and everything benign. All the while certain memories tried to break free of the boxes in which he stuffed them, wanting desperately to bombard him with highs and lows, to drag him back to familiar lanes and avenues, back to a time when…He swatted them away. When steam began to pour out around the shower curtain, he peeled it back and stepped under the stream.

It singed his skin, causing him to hiss, but Samson stayed in place. Instead of reaching for the shampoo bottle or the soap, he stood there, water cascading over him, following the contours of his body. He tried to focus on the way his skin began to redden, the way the water swirled as it circled the drain. It was hard to tell at what point he began to cry, his tears lost, washed away.