The bathroom sink was running.
So was the bathtub.
The drain was open, but water was pouring constantly against the porcelain.
The mirror had fogged over.
The bathmat was soaking wet.
I shut off both faucets.
Then I heard water running in the bathroom attached to our former bedroom.
Another faucet had been left open.
I turned it off too.
Finally, the house became quiet.
I stood in the doorway, trembling.
How long had those faucets been running?
A few hours?
An entire day?
Since Brian had left?
I had no idea.
All I could think about was the damage and the water bill.
I leaned against the wall and tried to calm myself.
The holes could be repaired.
The plumbing could be inspected.
The bill could eventually be paid.
It was terrible, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
Then I went downstairs.
And saw something shining on the living room floor.
