The bath water was the perfect temperature and the music in the next room was low and the candles had been lit for no special reason other than it was Tuesday and she was done with everything. She slid down until the water came up to her collarbones and closed her eyes. Her own hand drifted along her thigh, not going anywhere in particular. She could feel every inch of skin the water touched, the small rush of warmth when she shifted, the scent of something vaguely green. Everything slow. She was in no hurry for anything to happen. This was what was happening.