Nothing leaked.
Nothing dripped.
Nothing hissed.
“So where is all that water going?”
I found out the next morning.
A metallic scraping noise woke me shortly after sunrise.
Something was dragging across concrete outside my bedroom window.
I pulled back the curtain.
Diana was standing in my yard.
And draped over her shoulder was a long green garden hose.
I watched as she walked directly toward my outdoor faucet.
She crouched down and screwed the hose onto the spout like she had done it a hundred times.
Then she pushed the other end through a gap in the fence.
I threw on a robe and hurried downstairs.
Outside, I followed the hose with my eyes.
Across my yard.
Through the fence.
Across Diana’s lawn.
Straight into her swimming pool.
Her oversized swimming pool.
The one she had expanded two summers earlier.
It was half empty and slowly filling with water that I was paying for.
