I light the candles in the bathroom and press Play on the CD player: Mahler's first symphony breaks the silence. I have filled the bath with warmed mineral water, which Undine adores. I disrobe and hang the dressing gown on the door, a dark shadow against pale wood. I step into the bath and lie back.
The water flows around me and over me, climbing up my body and embracing me. Finally it reaches my lips and pauses, and slowly solidifies. The water gathers shape and sensation, firming against me. Undine holds me.
"I thought Undine was a woman," I murmur, my mind hazy and my sight dim.
"Love takes whatever shape it needs."
My love is in every drop of water.
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