combination of farts, brush, and shit
The night was quiet, and my room was only lit by the dim light of the table lamp. I had put on my favorite pajamas, one of those that make me feel sexy even if no one else could see them. Tight, soft, and light, perfect for closing the day with a smile in front of the mirror.
With slow steps, I walked toward the bathroom, my slippers dragging a little. The mirror gave me an amused look: my disheveled hair, the sparkle in my eyes, and those pajamas that seemed complicit in my nighttime antics.
I turned on the faucet, wet the toothbrush, and squirted a generous dollop of toothpaste. I began brushing, making the typical faces in front of the mirror, as if I were starring in an improvised TV commercial. And that's when it happened: an unexpected sound, short but impossible to disguise, escaped without permission. I stopped for a few seconds, the toothbrush still in my mouth, looking at myself in the mirror as if I'd heard someone else. Then, without being able to stop myself, I let out a stifled laugh. The moment was too absurd and too real. I continued brushing, and again, another little fart snuck into the routine. This time I didn't want to stop; on the contrary, I laughed harder, letting the foam from the toothpaste build up as I tried to contain my laughter. The bathroom echoed with my laughter mixed with the embarrassingly comical noises of my own body. It was an impromptu concert, a nocturnal secret that only I knew.
In the end, I spit out the toothpaste, rinsed my mouth, and looked at myself in the mirror again. Sexy, funny, imperfect, and happy. Because in those little silly things, in those moments that no one sees, there was also the magic of being me.
