Ficly

A Hard Day.

The showerhead sputtered a few times before the water pressure built to a steady stream. Water struck the floor and he shuddered as a cold mist hit his bare feet and shins. He knew he’d have to wait for a bit.

This was a game he was accustomed to; one that he’d even grown to enjoy.

He reflected on his day, a very busy one, as he waited for the water to warm. He’d worked rather hard today; harder today than he had in what felt like years. But it was worth every drop of sweat, each sore muscle, and every aching joint. It was exhilarating.

He eased his toe into the stream. Tepid, as usual. He’d wait for a few more moments, optimistically hoping for just a bit more heat.

After a few moments, his toe again stretched out toward the water splashing on the concrete floor.

It was steaming hot! Wonderful! He hadn’t enjoyed HOT water in ages. They must have finally replaced his boiler! Lovely, indeed.

It was a shame, he thought, to have to waste such gloriously hot water washing this blood from his hands.

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