A Shrill Cry

In a follow up to yesterdays post Under Pressure I am in a position to report on the situation. Since my last post there was a period of worry which developed into a state of concern as the hours passed. The only hope of a morning shower was looking like standing outside under the nearest cloud.

‘twas in the early hours, in a time before the birds would tweet their morning calls that a deep rumble could be heard. A vibration of low frequencies and a rush of air. Somewhere a long long way down the copper tunnel behind my tap a resurgence of power had begun. The charge through the branches of connectivity as the force raced to freedom. A surge of water, its strength returned, overcoming whichever demon had beset it. The scream as torrent hit the limits of its domain, air forced to escape, fleeing in burbling bubbles. Then calm. Order restored, equilibrium once again.

So after a slight disturbance I went back to sleep, got up and had my shower as normal.