The Reservoir in the Bathhouse
A pool of water held between my arms in the shower carried me back to the public bathhouses of childhood—to a boy who built reservoirs, played at being a hero and conducted experiments beneath the spray.
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A pool of water held between my arms in the shower carried me back to the public bathhouses of childhood—to a boy who built reservoirs, played at being a hero and conducted experiments beneath the spray.
I was writing about the day’s phone photos when the sky outside flashed and every light in the house went out—the power had failed.