Maisie could still feel the tingle of the piping hot water on her skin. Her skin thrummed with the echo of the heat. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, taking a few more slow moments before getting ready for work.
A melancholy ballad about unrequited love played from her laptop. It could her in the right frame of mind, soothed and at peace, and floating a few inched off the ground. A shield of sighs against the mad world that was always reaching for her.
She had a job! Her mental illness was finally managed enough that she could make steps towards independence, and making her own way. A simple job, mail girl at the local private college. But it filled her with pride.
Maisie let the last high notes of the ballad play out, and flow through her heart and skin like the fading echo of the hot shower. It was time to get ready and start her day. It was time to face the day.