Throughout the building, drains groaned, bathtubs burbled, and plumbing shook with a mildewed panic. The shower’s chains of plastic and glass, its manacles of pipe and porcelain, fought to keep her captive. But as every tenant would later recount, there was a sound like a mighty gate falling off its hinges before the fire sprinklers spewed forth upon everything in the complex.
She awakened with a gasp, warm and free in their bare embrace. His eyes promised there was more beyond the entrapment she’d known, and he led her to the door. With her hand in his, water spilled like rain. A pouring baptism that cleansed the apartment.
Of their presence.
Copyright © 2018 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
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