Dripping Taps

I woke up.

For a few seconds there was silence as the world slowly came into focus. And then came the familiar sound of cars outside – an almost relaxing drone that gave me the security that the world was still turning.

Then another noise.

A tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

A dripping tap, coming somewhere in the apartment.

I pulled the covers up and over my face. I didn’t have to be up for another 30 minutes. Perhaps I could drown it out.

But, sadly, once you’re aware of something so annoying it just gets worse. You start to predict it before it sounds again, anxiety curling you up as you wait for that next… TAP.

So I hauled myself out of bed, made myself somewhat decent, and padded down the hallway to the kitchen.

I turned both taps on and off. But the drip continued.

So for the next ten minutes I fought and fought with the cold tap. But the drip continued.

I don’t know why, but I’d just assumed that it was the cold tap.

And I became blinkered.

But, of course, as it turned out… the problem was with the hot tap.

Yet I’d become so convinced that the cold tap was the issue that my brain had seized up, refusing to believe anything else.

I think it’s important not to be like that when solving a problem.

You can get so focused on one particular solution that you miss the obvious.

by Ashley Brown

The water

There’s something about being in the water.

The sense of freedom when you’re underwater is almost second to none. 

Laws that normally hold you back, such as gravity, don’t even register.

There’s also a little bit of danger with water. After all, it isn’t our natural habitat.

And we can only be there for a little while.

For a second we touch lives with those who dwell there. But then, as our human limitations kick in, we have to return back to where we came from.

But while I was there, floating upon the edge of another life, I couldn’t help but think creatively.