The Drip

The Drip

“Listen...” she said.

“I don’t hear anything,” he answered.

“You have to listen for more than three seconds.”

“Fine... What exactly am I listening for anyway?”

“I think I heard water dripping. I think there’s a leak.”

“If this pool is leaking, it would just drip down the side, you wouldn’t hear it.”

“I heard something, like a leaky faucet, real slow, one drop at a time. Drip... drip... drip...”

“I don’t hear anything, I didn’t hear anything, it’s not leaking! I walked all the way around and the sides are completely dry all the way to the ground. There’s no leak!”

“Well, I heard something, something’s leaking. We had that big rain the other day, they told us not to fill this pool too full, something about the pressure or something, I was just concerned. The water is right up to the top now. We probably should let some out, you know, the pressure or whatever?”

“They just say things like that so you won’t sue them! It’s fine! Hey! I just saw your stupid leak! It’s dripping off that corner of the roof up there and landing right in the pool, no wonder the pool’s so full.”

As they both looked up, a new drop released itself from the corner of the roof and soared with majestic grace through the air, sparkling as the sun caught its perfect clear beauty, then it dove into into the pool like an Olympic contender.

There was silence for a fraction of a second, and then the pool, overfilled beyond capacity, split like a grape, spewing water over the two, across the yard and down the driveway, flooding into the street.

“Told ya,” she muttered, under her breath, trying not to smile.