Little Things

The water faucet dripped all night. Drip…drip…drip. On and on. Hitting piled-up pots, pans, and plates in the kitchen sink. Drip…drip…drip. The annoyance drove him crazy. Kept him up. Awake all night. Listening to water fall. Thinking of how lazy he’d become.

In the old days, I’d have fixed that, he said to no-one there; talking to a light that came from the bathroom. I’d have taken a wrench and tightened it. But now, I just let it be, he sat up and lit a cigarette. Drank a glass of water on the nightstand. His mouth was constantly dry. Lips cracked. Kept choking on hairs from his gray over-grown mustache. He wheezed from smoking.

Water continued to drip. His mind wandered. Thinking of old holidays with family. Christmas morning. The trimming of a turkey. Now he was alone. He smiled. Take comfort in little things, he laughed. They’re worth the price of admission.

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