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My legs are still smooth from shaving last night, and tonight is my Friday. I'm already up late, and I have nothing to do that wants to be done. Slow feels good tonight, and I decide to take a bath instead of a shower. I was complimented nicely today, and I feel stretchy, lithe. I ran the bath and was about to hop in when I saw the oil.

The oil has been sitting on my bathroom counter, covered in dust, for over a year. It is infused with dried wildflowers, and smells earthy and raw, like cattails might. I wipe off the glass bottle and pull out the cork. Oil, I have missed you. On dry Michigan nights, I would take a bath and pour this oil into the water, steaming up half my apartment with its weedy aroma. I pour about a tablespoon of oil into the bath and step in.

The oily hot water might as well defy gravity and slide stealthily up my legs, I can feel the slippery stuff penetrating my skin. I sit down and I am covered in stealthy-slip warmth. I rub my knees - they are dolphin skin and my shoulders the slick sturdy skin of an orca. I slide on the bottom of the tub on my buttery vertebrae and ooze to the center of the tub.

This is deliciously oily.

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