Ode to a leaky tap (faucet)



There was a nice thing in the office today, besides working for 12 hours, the tap was on. Or the faucet depending on who you ask. Its nice, because its always on, so I shouldn't say nice today, but every day.  I come in at 7, on. I leave at 5 on. It just spews hot water to infinity, and I have a strange feeling about it. Like if I could bottle all that water, I could measure my life in it. Or at least my workday. My trust in it has turned into the level I place on celestial bodies. And I have more faith that the tap will be flowing, than the sun rising in the east. Even now I am thinking about I am at home, and its still probably running, and the boiler is heating more water, and wasting energy. I also think of the defiance. This tap, although someone has tried to fix it, even maybe turned it to a dribble for a few days, always comes back. I don't know what its defying, or who, or why but I like it, more than my morning coffee, washing my hands in its warm water is my reminder to keep being no matter what tries to stop you.