Cigarette

The faucet in the bathroom had been leaking for over two months now. Today he got up and took a wrench and wrestled with it. It didn’t budge. A year ago the painter who did a shady job painted the whole tap. The paint dried off and acted like super glue. There was no way of fixing it without breaking it. He let it be. It was rarely used, so he kept a small bucket to collect whatever water he could.

Coming back to his room, he went to his little desk that barely had any space at all. He looked for a cigarette and lit it. He had a drawer full of matchboxes which he collected when he worked and traveled. You know the matchbox you get in the hotels and cafes? He would always carry 2 from each place and over the years ended up with a decent collection.

The trick to keeping these boxes in good condition is to keep them away from any possible moisture.

This drawer that housed them and was free from everything else. It had tissues lined up to its side to absorb any moisture and the drawer would be cleaned every 20th day.

The cigarette filled the room with dark thick smoke. The light coming from the window created a silhouette. He appeared to be bulkier and dangerous. He was anything but dangerous. He walked to the window and opened it. A sudden noise filled the room, he could hear people going about in the streets.

An unfamiliar new sound came from the room and startled him. He looked back in the dark room but couldn’t identify the source. The noise of the street ate up everything. He threw the cigarette on the floor and closed the window. With slow strides, he walked in the middle of the room and waited for the sound. He got it now. He got it.

It was the bucket.