Have you ever drawn a smiling face on a shower door or a foggy window?
Most people would see it as a free moment of happiness getting the chance to express itself, and then take a smile of their own as they walk away.

Not me.
At least, not often.
On days when the sky goes from gray to black, darker than hell- letting out its aggression with a downpour,
Or when a hot shower is about standing under the current, letting the mistakes and memories of the day flow down the drain.
More about a second of peace than actually washing the dirt off.

Those moments are when I carve the thin lips of a crooked smile, watching small droplets of water gather at the bottom of two lines I pictured as eyes.
I see the beads stream down like tears when the weight gets to be too much.
And the face keeps a smile until the condensation of it all lets the image of brief optimism destroy itself.
The remains of free happiness trickling down the wall.