You never appreciate a shower until the world kicks your flank into one.

The water stripped off the grime and blood to reveal me, like a crucible burning away charcoal off iron. What was left was just a mare, fresh, tired, and vulnerable. Scars and bruises lined my body like damage on armor, the parting gift of raiders with bullets for presents.

It was warm, stung the scars that were still fresh, but it felt safe. It was a blanket over a filly, shielding her from the harsh conditions around. A tinted glass to give you privacy, the chance to just let the world's weight slide off. Time stopped so long as the water kept running.

Part of me wish it could last forever.