There is a poltergeist in the bathroom.

For the past three or four years, I have had the same inexpensive metal canister of shaving cream sitting on the shelf in one shower or another. Or closet, I guess, when I was in Japan and left it here alone. Tonight, its resentment peaked - it assaulted me as I was getting out of the shower, spewing and sputtering heaps of apparently endless white foam in my direction. The foam is trying to get back to its master.

Or else the can's just gotten too rusty. The foam appears to be coming out of a crack in the seal at the top of the can, not the actual spout. I sat it down at the bottom of the tub to work out its frustrations, and I thought it had stopped an hour ago, but I just heard it start up again.

It may also be trying to telling me that my goatee's becoming prominent. I know that, wrathful shaving cream spirit, but my face is irritated right now and I'm waiting for it to settle down. And I don't use you on my face anyway. You're just for armpits and legs, which is why you've lasted so long to begin with.

The can's more than half full. I'm afraid I'll come out in the morning to find the whole tub full of dried-out white residue.