The Story Corner

I reach out my hand, swiping my fingers under the water, testing the temperature. It's perfect - that sweet spot between warmth and heat that coaxes tension from muscles and invites release. I take a step forward, and let the droplets engulf me. They tap against my skin like a thousand tiny fingers, drumming a soothing rhythm that I melt into easily. I turn, slowly, deliberately, until my back meets the full force of the stream. I tilt my head back, so the water soaks through to my scalp, cascades over my hair and trickles down my spine, like it knows the way. A shiver runs through me, a tingle that spreads, sparking every nerve in its path. My skin prickles as goosebumps form, a feeling I embrace with every part of me. A soft moan escapes my lips with appreciation as I surrender to the warmth.

There is a room in every heart, one that cannot be seen or touched, but its presence is undeniable. It is a space where things come and go - some of them will linger, others will leave, often without warning. The room changes over time, its contents are ever-shifting, but there are gaps, spaces where something is always missing. For years, the room had been left undisturbed. The door was quietly shut, and the walls were familiar, comforting even. The room was full in a way that made sense.  But then, unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. It was tentative, unsure. Something was there. The door was cracked open and all of a sudden, there was a flash of light, streaming through the gap, a warm hand reaching in. The room was coming to life again.