Dry Times

A knock. The streetlight glowed through the gap in the curtains.

Again. Harder and more persistent. The screen on his watch showed a young lady on his doorstep, fidgeting. Come on

Sighing, he turned back down the stairs. Peered through the glass, Bit late to be bothering folk

Sorry, can you help me. My car broke down.

What do you need?

She looked at him through the door Can I borrow your phone, I need to get home before they turn it off.

He understood the urgency, there was only an hour left. I'll just grab my phone.

Walking to the table he picked up the phone and disabled the alarm on the windows so he could pass it out to her.

Thank you so much sir.

Five minutes later, walking up the stairs again. A cool breeze strokes his face. The bathroom door gently rocking back and forth.

Stepping into the room, the window is open. Beneath the window sits the sink. A hose runs through the window to the tap. Water droplets in the sink below.

Glancing at the meter on the wall the readout glows, confirming what he already knew.

Zero litres remaining of your daily allocation.