Uyo awoke with the sedra upon them.
For a moment, Uyo considered hiding under the covers and staying in bed. Their bladder, sadly, had other ideas. “Fine. I’m getting up,” they grumbled. Throwing off the blanket, Uyo stood and shuffled to the privy to relieve themselves of at least one burden.
That done, Uyo poured water into the basin from the jug they had filled the night before. Taking a small piece of soap, they dropped it into the water. Today wasn’t normally a soap day, just an ordinary day. Maybe a soapy scrubbing will scour the sedra away, Uyo thought. Besides, the soap smelled nice—like the air before a spring rain with just a whiff of orange blossom. The water was cool, but not cold, dissolving the soap with only minimal encouragement. Uyo took the top cloth from the stack next to the basin, submerged it in the soapy water, and began a vigorous scrubbing of their face and neck, under each arm, between their legs, and the bottom of each foot. Left foot and then right foot.
Uyo emptied the basin and refilled it with the rest of the water from the jug. After rinsing the cloth, Uyo again wiped their face and neck, under each arm, between their legs, and the bottom of each foot. Left foot and then right foot. They finished by dunking their head into the basin and running fingers through their wavy—and accordingly unruly—hair to separate the tangles.
“Eh. Best I can do today,” Uyo said to their reflection in the mirror, though, as they mentally replayed the moment, perceived it as if their reflection were instead speaking to them. And not at all kindly. Wonderful, Uyo thought. Even my reflection is against me.
Continue with Part 2!
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