Having succinctly remembered why he never stuck around for small talk, Jiggle quickly snapped the bathroom door shut. In the same combined motion, he reached out his index finger and flicked the light switch upwards. The bright fluorescent lights were considerably less pleasing to his eyes than the glow of the morning sun. Standing there in the middle of the bathroom, he felt the fabric from the plush floor mat sticking up between his toes. Enveloped in a moment of both awareness AND sadness, he placed his hands on his hips and stared at himself in the mirror.
“Not too shabby,” he muttered at the bottom of his breath. “Here I am, almost 40, and I look as strong as a stallion.”
The forceful wisdom did not help to lift the vein of sadness he had been under for the last several days. Like a storm cloud, it seemed to be following around. Jiggle even went back to some of his older hangouts, where he hadn’t been in several years, to try and rekindle the flame inside of him. The player that he was seemed to be losing interest.
An uninvited knock upon the door sent Jiggle jumping back from his stance on the rug on the floor. If there had been a soft shower curtain on the bathtub, he surely would have flown, ass first, right into the bottom of the tub. Fortunately for his derriere, the sliding glass doors stopped his backward momentum rather efficiently.
To be continued…