Dragons With Cancer

Smack in the middle of a heat wave, I didn't shower for days.

Why? Because a city sprang up in my bathtub.

I'd been busy reorganizing my bookshelves when I'd heard a minor clatter in the bathroom. I figured the cat had probably knocked my razor off the edge of the tub or something, so I paid no attention and continued with my chore. It wasn't until later, when I had to pee, that I'd actually gone in there and noticed thin, barely visible tendrils of smoke drifting up from the bottom of the tub.

Peering over the edge, I saw tiny buildings, houses and roads. What the hell?

Stooping low, I could see people roughly the size of gnats roaming to and fro, going about their daily business. Cars no bigger than the nail on a child's pinky finger drove the city streets and, if I tilted my head just so, I could actually hear an occasional honking of horns.

The city was small, just getting started, but clearly growing by leaps and bounds. There were many factories (the cause of most of the smoke) and what appeared to be a school and a couple of churches. Stores, banks, and even a hospital were all in the works and people were coming up out of the drain in droves.

Perched on the toilet, I watched for a good five hours before realizing I was hungry and certainly couldn't spend my whole life in the bathroom. So I went and had dinner, watched some TV, and checked my e-mail before returning to the bathroom.

The cat had discovered the mini city as well. She sat on the edge of the tub, watching with fascination, her tail leisurely flicking back and forth. Fortunately for the city, she is a fairly mellow cat, not much of a hunter, and mostly just enjoys a little entertainment now and then. Usually it's bugs she likes to watch but now there was something even better than bugs. A city. Totally intriguing.

In just a couple of hours, the city had grown again. Now there were more neighborhoods, more streets, a mall, and many more churches. The cat and I watched for a while more before growing bored. I went to bed. She probably did as well.

The following morning the city was still there. I couldn't stand the thought of destroying them so I skipped my shower, threw on extra deodorant, and went to work. All day I wondered about the city and how it was doing and when I finally arrived home, I fed the cat and went straight to the bathroom.

It was still thriving there in its porcelain valley but by now I could tell unrest was growing, especially closest to the drain where what appeared to be low income housing was located. I could hear popping sounds and occasionally one of the gnat people would fall, a microscopic dot of red forming around it. Gangs were everywhere, menacing the city, threatening people, and selling drugs to the school kids. The urban terrorists had arrived.

Disgusted, I left the bathroom, hoping the tiny people would reclaim their city and it would once again be a nice, safe place to raise children and have a career.

Of course, that never happens. For two more days, I skipped showers and endured distasteful looks from my coworkers, allowing the city time to get itself in order. But every night, I saw it had only declined into more of a cesspool. Crime was running rampant, so much so that the little police cars with their sirens and little flashing lights could not keep up. Both cars and buildings were burning almost constantly and the sound of gunfire was becoming so common that I couldn't bear it for another second.

In frustration, I turned the faucet on full blast and watched the city first drown and then get sucked down the same drain it had sprung from. Now, as a precaution, I always keep the tub drain plugged.