Lather. Rinse. Repeat.


    Humanity had changed a great deal since Adriannea had last taken notice of their behaviours and mannerisms. Their language was blending and words were becoming shorter. Consonants were the mark of a more formal dictation, and some words were reduced to single letters. She was thankful that she didn’t have to learn its’ complexities, but at the same time, jealous that they could demonstrate their emotions and needs.


    Camilla takes Adriannea into an unoccupied guest suite, and leaves her with two towels, and a flowery print dress. “Best of luck with those locks,” she muses, “I’ll be back in a few hours to help if you don’t manage to get through them then. And hopefully we won’t have to cut away any of it!” With that, she exits. Every part of the room excites Adriannea. The chair in the corner of the room, the square bed covered in thin layers of the softest linens. When she reaches the bathroom, she comes across a full length mirror. Before this moment, she had never known her true form. Never needed to see her reflection, and if she had, it would have been seen only in the reflection of the eyes’ of her sisters.


    Her skin was flawless. A complexion used in the descriptions of ancient lore describing Roman Gods and Goddesses. Perfection seen on the covers of magazines after the make-up, and digital editing. Her hair was long, but in the water it had always seemed much longer. Pieces of seaweed and shells clung to her hair, some embedded deeply. She fiddled with the handles of a set of vanity drawers, silently gasping when she discovered that they opened up. Inside one drawer she found a set of shampoo, conditioner and body wash.


    She found the concept of a shower impractical. Once lifting the handle, the water would either run hot, or cold (which her delicate human skin did not seem to respond well to) and once it left the shower head, instead of collecting at the bottom of the shower, it simply disappeared through the bottom. But Adriannea is determined to fall into human habits, and after carefully reading the labels on the shampoo, she walks into the deluge. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. What a strange concept. The shampoo stings her eyes, and it seems impossible to rinse it away without getting copious amounts of soap and water in her mouth. But thankfully the conditioner helped her tease out the tangles from her long hair. The idea of cutting her tresses was terrifying. If she cut away her hair, she would be passing away her own immortality. But if she succeeded in becoming a human being, giving up her athanasy might not be such a bad thing. The body wash smelled like oranges, a scent which Adriannea had the pleasure of smelling before. What was an orange? There was so much for her to learn than she thought there might be.


    After drying her skin, she struggles with the dress. When had human fashion been so risqué? The last time she had taken notice of fashion, dresses were floor length, and covered the neck, shoulders, and arms. But this dress hugged her body, and ended just above her knees. She had never had to cover her nakedness under the water, and the dress was confining.


    Camilla returns, carrying with her a basket of food. “There was no sign of a woman your age in the registry, do you know where your room is?” Adriannea shakes her head. “Well, I guess until we figure this all out, this can be your room. You must have amnesia or something.” Camilla flits around the room, collecting the wet towels and placing new ones in a drawer. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had a dazed and confused girl at the hotel. Just a few months ago, we found a teenage girl on the beach. I’m pretty sure she had been date raped, because she had no idea where she was. You didn’t do any heavy drinking last night did you? I’m Camilla by the way.” Adriannea likes the sound of Camilla’s voice, and smiles every time her voice rises up in question. “I wonder what your name is…” Camilla reaches into her pocket for a pen and holds it out to Adriannea. “Could you write it out for me?” Adriannea looks at the pen, trying to remember what it is. Was it similar to a quill? Camilla gives Adriannea a piece of the hotels’ stationary, and Adriannea carefully places the pen on the paper. She drags it across the page, and is amazed when she sees the line of blue follow the tip. She draws more lines, forgetting Camilla, who looks at her outlandishly. “Do you not know how to write?” Camilla tears away the scribbles, and gives Adriannea a fresh page. Adriannea hopes that the language hasn’t changed very much since the last time she had observed and learned it. She writes;
   
    [Adriannea in the 'symbol' font in microsoft word, which is greek]

And then hands the paper to Camilla. “That looks like it says Adrian. What a pretty name for a girl. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman named Adrian before.”

The End

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