Demons in the Shower

An essay about a sexual assault flashback

adapted by a photo by Artem Ivanchencko on Unsplash

That Sunday… it dragged on forever.

My nerves had been rubbed completely raw by the fire of a flashback that morning, taking over without warning while we made love his three day absence. That one shook me up, badly. Hell, it shook him up too. We laid in bed, holding each other in silence, for maybe half an hour afterwards. My head…