A Drop Of Water Novels & Stories

"Don't be." Thomas fell silent and crouched down near the river, splashing his face. The cool water slipped between his lips and made him shudder. It tasted so pure, soothing his raw throat and refreshing his skin. Even though the water met the sea, it had no taste of salt or any rot that the brine carried.

It becomes a pivotal moment in her journey as a maid, as she hopes to confront the darkness within and seek a glimmer of hope amidst the overwhelming darkness. In the quiet solitude of the bathroom, she seeks solace beneath the steady stream of water. The weight of sadness clings to her, enveloping her fragile frame as she steps into the shower. Within the confines of the tiled walls, her tears mix with the cascading droplets, merging into a symphony of sorrow. As the water washes over her, it offers a temporary respite from the pain that haunts her soul. Rivulets of water trace the contours of her face, carrying away traces of her anguish, if only for a fleeting moment. Each droplet becomes

The way water always is finding its level finding its course finding every crack in every wall that thought itself solid.

It had a bulge where plaster met old copper, a belly where there shouldn’t be one. She couldn’t hear the drip over her own bubble-noise. But the drip started anyway. A bulge widened by a fraction. One bead of water formed and swelled and fell. It landed on a junction box bolted to a crossbeam—blue tape, electrician’s scrawl, dust. The drop slid into the seam. The box ticked. Jasmine didn’t see it. She switched to breaststroke, slicing through the flat turquoise like a knife through a hard jelly.

Drip, drip, drip… My body won't stop trembling as a cold breeze bathes me. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me I haven't eaten, and my mouth is dryer than a parched desert. Drip, drip, drip… Gods! The sound of water leaking somewhere in the basin is driving me bonkers. Drip, drip, drip… “Please, can someone make it stop?” I whimper softly. “It's driving me crazy.” Exhaustion slowly overrides my body.

I knew that a single misstep could shatter the delicate balance between us, and I was determined to tread carefully. As the droplets continued to fall from her hair, I couldn't help but be drawn to the intimacy of the moment. The water seemed to symbolize a cleansing, a new beginning. And at that moment, I yearned to be a part of that fresh start, to share in the unspoken connection between us.

“Pick something, anything. Just take your mind off of the pain.” “Focus. Okay.” I pick the first thing that comes to mind, “Water. H2O. Dihydrogen Oxide. Molecular weight: 18.015. Clear, colorless, odorless. Possible states of matter: liquid, solid, gas. Freezes at zero degrees centigrade, boils at one hundred degrees centigrade. Essential for life.”

I could hear loudly, the running of water from the shower, even though the sliding shower door was closed. I just sat there, with my arms propped on both sides of the bed, flinging my feet back and forth as I listened to the running water. I imagined where the water was coming from and how they moved through the pipes of the building before the got to the shower head, and like racers, fly down to splatter on Vincent. I also imagined if those water droplets were tiny humans, how they feel would if of all the humans they could have dropped on, their destinies chose Vincent. I smiled at my silliness. The droplets were lucky though. They got to caress his skin before plummeting to their doom.

I still remember the smell of rain, the feeling of being completely immersed in it. I keep telling myself that I need to escape, that I have to leave, but my body doesn't move. I feel the heartbeat slowing down, it will stop as slow as it's going. Then suddenly I hear a voice calling me, whispering my name. "Isaac, come to me, I can give you what you want. You just need to reach out, you just need to truly want me."

If we all rose up together, even they would have a hard time dealing with us. Picking up the water. I drank it in little sips. Savoring the feeling of the cold water washing down my throat. It’s funny really. It hasn’t been that long and I already miss a simple thing like a tap and running water. Crack! “Ahhhhh!.” Crack!