A Leaky Tap

It is never what you expect – a leaky tap that needs repair,
causing my insides to spill out,
stabbing my heart,
shaking my hands as frustration boils over.
He is not here, he never will be again.
The shower as pain catalyst.

© ceenoa  26/5/2014


38 thoughts on “A Leaky Tap

  1. Suzanne 26/05/2014 / 11:53 pm

    Intense and heart-wrenching. Love that last line!


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:01 am

      Thanks, it was a pretty intense moment for me, glad it came out in the words.


  2. Jennifer G. Knoblock 27/05/2014 / 12:24 am

    Great opening line and nice progression from the physical to the emotional.


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:03 am

      Thank you for your compliment. Sometimes writing is just like life.


  3. M. L. Sexton 27/05/2014 / 12:39 am

    I have a leaky tap now and it’s running me ragged. I feel the frustration


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:05 am

      Hope you get it fixed, nothing like a drip to drive you mad.


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:07 am

      Yes, you don’t expect them, the come and crush you, and then they fade away and you’re left wondering what the heck just happened.


  4. Marcy 27/05/2014 / 3:27 am

    It is those little unexpected moments that can bring on the most intense grief. Well done.


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:10 am

      Thank you for taking the time to comment. I think I would like to miss some of those little moments for a while, they do not happen as often as they did, but they still hit me like a ton of bricks.


  5. C.C. 27/05/2014 / 4:02 am

    I have felt this too….that strange ability of grief to strike us in the mundane moments when we least expect it.


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:04 am

      Yes, it happens to me a lot, just a small something that acts a s a trigger. Hard to predict, impossible to contain.


  6. thewizardsword 27/05/2014 / 5:40 am

    It’s amazing how grief comes at you from different and unexpected angles. It’s kind of like a sniper. Anyway, I love how you’ve depicted ity so precisely.


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 8:11 am

      A sniper that waits silently, and picks the exact moment to hit your vulnerability. What a great analogy, thanks


  7. fatgirlinboxinggloves 27/05/2014 / 6:49 am

    The image of the leaky tap is perfect for this piece. There’s something about water and baths/showers that always makes me nostalgic.


  8. theinnerzone 27/05/2014 / 10:37 am

    Beautiful imagery, little things triggering a waterfall.


  9. Psych Babbler 27/05/2014 / 4:41 pm

    Great images that you’ve evoked…and I wonder…a whole lot of symbolism? Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it.


    • Claudette 27/05/2014 / 6:56 pm

      No, this actually happened to me, trying to fix the damn shower triggered a massive grief/frustration moment for my dead husband.


  10. KymmInBarcelona 27/05/2014 / 10:33 pm

    Ah yes, I know this feeling well. It’s always the little things, the happy and the sad. ({}) Love the last line!
    (I have one about a mosquito : )


    • Claudette 28/05/2014 / 6:44 am

      Thanks for your comment on the last line, not sure whether I got it right. The mosquito sound interesting.


  11. jenbrunett 27/05/2014 / 11:46 pm

    These moments are hard to bare. You can’t turn off a leaky tap. Just have to let ’em drip. 😦 ❤


  12. innatejames 28/05/2014 / 12:42 am

    Very nicely done, Claudette! The opening sentence was grabbing and the end was like a door slamming.


  13. Kay 28/05/2014 / 3:14 am

    Those triggers are so frustrating and always leave me feeling shaken, like ‘you seriously just broke down over THAT?!’ This is a really well-written and relatable piece.


    • Claudette 28/05/2014 / 6:48 am

      Thanks you Kay, it is quite amazing what gets you. You prepare for the biggies, and the littlies sneak right under the radar and zap you.


  14. Jo-Anne Teal (@jtvancouver) 28/05/2014 / 5:26 am

    Wow, Claudette. I read this twice and the impact has stayed with me. I know this grief – unclogging the sink has reduced me to tears – and your writing brings it all back. Really well done.


    • Claudette 28/05/2014 / 6:53 am

      Jo-Anne thank you for your lovely words. I can imagine that sink unclogging would be another place for this to happen to me. All those things that he did, that I now do, sometimes badly, sometimes well, are nasty little booby-traps waiting for me. Sympathy for your loss.


  15. Christine 28/05/2014 / 6:20 am

    Gorgeous, Claudette, every word. I felt the whole moment right there with you. Wonderful job. Thank you for sharing and linking up.


    • Claudette 28/05/2014 / 6:50 am

      What a lovely comment, thanks Christine. I’m really enjoying the whole 42 words things.


  16. Meg 28/05/2014 / 8:08 am

    It never is what you expect, is it? Great job showing how a leaky faucet can trigger heartache.


Happiness is kind words from a friend .....

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