Flowers from Iraq (The Storyteller and the Healer Book 1) by Sunny Alexander

Author:Sunny Alexander [Alexander, Sunny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780984689903
Publisher: The Storyteller and the Healer
Published: 2012-04-16T23:00:00+00:00

Kathleen opened the door to her bathroom and sighed with relief, knowing that in a few minutes she would feel the curative powers of hot water.

When Kathleen first saw Canfield House, she was disappointed that the five bedrooms on the top floor shared one outdated bathroom. She claimed one of the bedrooms that faced the valley as hers, and had an adjoining room remodeled into a closet and bathroom. It was the one personal luxury she allowed.

The oversized stall shower was lined with tiles from a less fortunate Queen Anne home that had been razed to make room for a development. A rain dome showerhead hung from the ceiling and multiple height showerheads were placed on two of the tiled walls.

The tub looked like the original claw tub, but was deeper and meant for soaking. Kathleen filled the tub and slowly lowered her body into the water. With a sigh, she allowed the hot water to sink into every pore and surrendered to the feeling of floating. Kathleen kept refilling the tub and soaked for more than an hour, knowing that the tankless “forever hot water heater” would guarantee hot water, always.

Kathleen wrapped herself in an oversized beige bath towel. She glanced in the bathroom mirror, defocusing her eyes so that her reflection was blurred. She saw, but didn’t see. It was a trick she had learned many years ago when, as a teenager, she watched as her body changed and developed. She saw her chest begin to swell and hair pop up in new and strange places. She was embarrassed. She was ashamed. She had no friends her age to share the angst or excitement over her metamorphosis.

Kathleen traced the scar that ran from her shoulder to her chest with her fingertips. The prominent scar only served to make her feel less attractive. The women she had been with had told her how bright or talented she was, but no one had told her she was pretty, and no one had stayed the night, ever.

There were times when no matter how long she soaked or scrubbed, she couldn’t feel clean.

There were times when no matter what she did, she couldn’t stop the bad feelings from creeping in.

There were times when she was thrown into a place where emotional darkness reigned, and she was lost to the fear that seemed to be waiting around every corner.

Kathleen crawled into bed, looked at the bottle of pain medication on the nightstand, and knew it would stay untouched. She needed to be self-reliant and in control of her physical and psychological pain. Kathleen lay on her left side and got into a fetal position with her knees bent tightly against her chest. The pressure on her scar was relieved; the pain began to evaporate and she fell into a sound sleep.

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