The power is off again. She bathes in the dark, using the water stored in the red garbage can that stands in the corner of the shower stall. She pours water over herself, soaps up, rinses off, dipping the small plastic pan again and again into the water and pouring the water over her head, shoulders, torso, legs. She curses Manila, the Philippines, politicians, herself. The water, which never seems cold when she drinks it or brushes her teeth, seems freezing as it hits the back of her neck, as it washes the soap suds down her breasts.