The first thing I did when I got home from work was

get into the shower. It was all I could think about while I was in the shop. Shower. I needed to be clean. I needed to wash the fear and rage and hate away. I pulled my hair out of its tight, oily ponytail, felt my follicles swoon at the release. Ran the water, and as it warmed, stripped off my clothes like they were a part of the conflict, like the were vestments of that disgusting ceremony. Clean! I wanted to be clean. I wanted that woman's words to be washed out of my mind, I wanted the water to exorcise them from me like tiny demons and baptise my new, fresh, unblemished soul with a willingness to love humanity again! How I hated humanity that morning. How I hated its every low, selfish, mean, uncompromising manifestation. How I hated myself. Water. I needed water.