On Demon Wings

I locked the bathroom door behind me and scrunched up my nose at the smel . I knew it was up to me to clean the bathrooms most of the time, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get rid of this foul, rank odor that emanated from the wal s. It wasn’t that it smel ed like piss and shit or anything like a normal washroom. Rather, it smel ed like something was rotting away. Sharp and acrid, almost tangy in a revolting way, like spoiled meat.

 

I stopped breathing through my nose and ran the tap until it was cold enough and began dabbing a wad of paper towels on my forehead, cheeks and eyelids, careful not to smudge my makeup. I was wearing a lot of it these days, feeling uglier than normal thanks to the purple rings under my eyes and a strangely grey complexion. Though. I wondered how much of it was actual y a manifestation of how I felt. Did I look like crap because I felt like crap, or did I feel like crap because I looked like crap? Ah, the mysteries of life.

 

I took in a deep breath through my mouth, the smel penetrating slightly, and I tossed the paper towels into the wastebasket behind me. I leaned forward and looked closer at myself in the mirror. I felt like I had changed so much in the past few months, Iike I’d gotten older or something. I had faint crow’s lines now. Wrinkles at the corner of my eyes! I was only 23 - what the hel !

 

A breeze blew at me from the side, tickling my bare arms and flipping up the bottom of my apron. I looked behind me at the closed door, not sure where the wind was coming from. It was chil y and moving fast enough to make the paper towels wave back and forth from the dispenser.

 

I frowned, confused. But we were in a drafty old building in downtown Portland. Too bad the breeze wasn’t clearing the terrible smel away.

 

I looked back at myself in the mirror, strands of my hair flying in my face. I pushed them behind my ears, just in time to hear a smal poof from behind me.

 

I spun around.

 

The garbage can was on fire.

 

Yel ow flames were rising out of the mound of crumpled paper towels, moving in the wind, reaching for the ceiling with mesmerizing fingers.

 

I was stunned but not for long.

 

Fire!