I brought a book. Mostly for protection.

Priya cancelled when I was already wearing my swimsuit under my jeans. Her washing machine had filled the kitchen with foam. She sent a photo. I sent back, "That looks expensive," then stood in my hallway waiting for permission to have an afternoon.

Eventually I went. With a novel, spare socks, two hair ties and a banana. Apparently "bathhouse alone" meant "prepare to be stranded there".

I nearly invented a friend.

"Just me," I said at the desk, with the apologetic tone of someone returning a broken appliance.

"Lovely. First time?"

That was it. No investigation. I asked where to change, where to put my glasses and which rooms were quiet. Three questions, zero consequences. I should try this elsewhere.

In the entrance, my bag fell open. The banana rolled against my shoe. I photographed the wreckage for Priya, scooped everything up and put the phone away with the rest of my things.

The woman by the wall was not my supervisor.

I showered, spread my towel on the sauna bench and sat beside two strangers. One nodded. I nodded back. Our relationship was now fully established.

After a while I wanted a break. The woman by the wall had arrived before me and was still there. For one stupid second, I thought I needed to outlast her.

Then I got up. She did not summon a committee.

I drank water, skipped the plunge and asked the attendant a few questions for next time. Going on my own was enough novelty for one Tuesday. I had checked what to bring beforehand; I had somehow forgotten I could also decide what to do.

Stephen died. I was not ready.

Back in my clothes, I opened the novel at a random page. A man called Stephen had died. I had not met Stephen. I closed it again.

A woman nearby snapped her hair tie. I handed her my spare with the quiet authority of someone whose ridiculous packing had finally paid off.

I stayed for tea. Left when I wanted. Checked the locker twice because I am still me.

Outside, Priya asked if we could try again next Tuesday. I said yes. Then I ate the banana on the way home, feeling unbearably pleased with my own organisation.