@bcmbasticâ  //  â take a long shower. wash your hair. wash the clothes you were wearing. wash the memories from your mind and body. â (i'm washin' me AND my clothes.)  â  as for me, iâm a sagittarius.
and so, damp-haired with an unbuttoned blouse overtop her sports bra and trailing a towel around her shoulders, karen meets jinx in the living room. the mist follows her out of the bathroom, her feet bare and her sweatpant legs brushing her ankles, scented and heavy. she has to be careful with the type of soap she usesâhas to choose a scent that doesnât bring up memories of a dark purple wood or, bitterer, of a happy childhood, a version of herself locked away by more than just memory. often she steps out half-washed, pushes the suds off her with a towel in the kitchen with the blinds closed and the windows all open to let the scent out. itâs the strangest things, too: old leather, blackberries but not raspberries or flower petals, wisconsin sunrise from the tourist shop her mom bought family gifts in. she doesnât like to smell like anything, but nothing is still a smell she canât get out of her nose.
âheâs still there.â she flops onto the couch and spreads her legs, kicking one foot up onto the coffee table. âit was a good suggestion, by the way, but iâm stuck with them.â
she buries her hands in the towel and uses it to scrub at her hair, drying out the tips. she stares at jinx, stares around the room, then drapes the towel over the arm of the couch and begins to run her fingers through her hair, untangling the shoulder-length strands. cleanness doesnât last for long: within seconds the grime creeps back in, unpleasantly at first. after a few days, she feels coated enough in her own grime that the long hunts become less a memory and more a part of her muscles, the way if you lift enough weights you dream about lifting heavier ones. she buttons up her blouse, bottom to top.
âghosts just donât go away. they donât listen, either.â she cups her hands around her mouth, but then she only whispers. âyou there? you hearing this? jinx says begone.â she throws her head back, the top three buttons of her blouse still untouched. spreading her arms out along the back of the couch, she looks at the ceiling and exhales loudly. âbut iâm clean now. so. win for jinx.â













