She stared it down for at least ten minutes. She ran her hands through her salt-water-crusted hair. There was no way around it. She’d have to wash her hair. A last deep breath and she stepped in…
It was no shower. It was more akin to a tightrope Cirque du Soleil gymnastics routine in a downpour. It was definitely no shower. Thank you, France. Thank you very much.
