Voz
The clock strikes 6:15 and screams its morning song as she places each toe, one by one, onto the dew-coated hardwood floor. The rain has returned for its daily routine. She drags herself to the closet where she picks out her finest black blouse, worn only once, five years ago. Fashionably dressed in a navy blue Minor Threat t-shirt, men's boxer briefs, and a rainbow stocking cap, she stretches her legs to the bathroom and leans into the sink, elbows down, and semi-consciously stares herself into a daze. Her vibrant green eyes cower in dark circles between freshly gauged ears. She removes the hat and notices that the stars shaved into the sides of her head have grown out, followed by a golden lock placed delicately upon her nose. Her lips pose like blood red pomegranate in a pool of milk; violent with the complexion of a ghost, ready for its next victim.
Brought back to reality by the calling of her bladder, she forms her mouth into an 'O' shape, large enough to fit a fist or two. Her nostrils flare, and her eyes water as she inhales what would seem like the entire state of Washington. Swallowing a few ashes from recently burned incense, she coughs frantically, leaving a smoky aftertaste and continues into the bathroom where she prepares her first real shower in four days.
Two years have passed in her Olympian apartment with nothing to show but solitude and a refrigerator full of condiments. Today sparks the beginning of a new life; a new state of mind, and possibly a new love.
The warm water rolls down her face as she jumps out of the shower, neglecting the towel resting on the counter. She quickly throws on a pair of well-worn pinstripe pants with safety pins for a zipper and slips into her blouse. She skips out the door with a confident smile and lets the rain clash with her now platinum strip of hair. In her left hand, hangs an eighteen-foot-long cable; in her right, a microphone wrapped in duct tape. 'Today, they will love us,' she whispers.
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