Friday is here. This week seemed to blaze by. Or maybe that was me. I think I realized that this was the last full week before the holidays and time sort of contracted somehow. Regardless, it is the last prompt of the week so lets set the timers and see what happens.
Huh. Not what I expected, but an interesting situation. I think he is about to find something unexpected in the basement before he leaves.
Friday, December 19th: The pipe broke.
The pipe broke. Water spewed everywhere in a fanned out gush that coated everything. The break wasn’t a hole but a long slice. Frank ran to shut the water off as others tried to get items out of the path of the water before it could be ruined. He took the strange looking tool to the metal plate set into the yard by the street. He managed to get the lid off but the spigot was stuck. He lay on his stomach, reaching into the hole and wiggling the metal back an forth until he could finally turn it, shutting the water off to the house.
With the water off, He climbed up, replaced the metal plate and went back into the house.
The basement was a mess. Sodden boxes filled with storage looked like they were in the process of collapsing, their cardboard disintegrating into mush. The train set Wallace and Jeffrey used now had pools of water on it’s surface. They were rapidly pulling items off of the table to get them away from the water. Sharron turned towards him with a glare.
“Fat lot of help you were,” she scolded.
“I went and turned the water off,” Frank told her. She snorted and went back to hauling Christmas decorations out.
Frank wasn’t surprised. Nothing he ever did was right. He didn’t know why it would be different this time. He was also usually the one to get the blame. Despite not being in the basement in the last few months he was certain this would be no exception. He went to the closet and took out the bucket and mop. As he did, he was unsurprised to hear the familiar refrain.
“What did you do,” Marla demanded. Frank looked over and sure enough, she was looking at him.
“Nothing,” he said. “I don’t use the basement.”
“So you just thought you’d let it rot and have other people deal with the consequences?” She snorted. “Typical.”
She looked at the others. “Since he created this mess, I think he should be the one to clean it up.”
There was a chorus of agreements and the rest soon departed, each taking armfuls of what they considered precious that they hoped to salvage upstairs. Frink stood by letting them go. The door closed and he sighed.
Knowing the drain was in the middle of the room, he began to push the water in that direction with the broom. Every now and again, he’s stop and wring the mop out over the drain.
Four more days,’ he reminded himself. That was all he had to last. Four more days and then he was gone. There was work and an apartment waiting for him. It wasn’t much, little more than a single room with the necessary kitchen equipment in a shrunken size lining one wall and a minuscule bathroom with a toilet and shower to make it a legally habitable space. It was small but it would do while the work began. He already moved most of his stuff over and had only to relocate himself.
Ten til Midnight 