High Water Mark

The fifth floor apartment was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant wail of sirens. Mara sat on the floor surrounded by boxes, her back against the wall she'd painted orange three years ago when she still believed color could change everything. Now it was just another surface she'd have to neutralize before listing the place.

She worked like a zombie, had been for weeks—since the promotion, since David moved out, since she realized she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt something that wasn't exhaustion or numb acceptance. Her body moved through the motions of packing: wrap, tape, label. Wrap, tape, label.

The water main had broken at 2 AM, flooding the basement and knocking out power to half the building. The super had said it might be days before they restored pressure to the upper floors. Mara had filled the bathtub before the last drops sputtered out, an instinct she couldn't explain except that it felt like something someone who had their shit together would do.

She reached behind the entertainment center to disconnect the cable box, her fingers brushing against years of accumulated dust and a forgotten coaster. The cable television subscription had been David's thing—sports packages and premium channels she'd never watched. She'd kept it active for six months after he left, some weird act of penance or hope she couldn't quite name.

Her phone buzzed on the floor beside her. A text from her boss: *Can you hop on a call? Tokyo team needs something.*

Mara looked at the screen, then at the bathtub full of water she'd probably never use, then at the wall she'd painted with such optimism. She stood up, knees popping, and walked to the bathroom where she watched the water catch the last light of sunset through the small window, turning it liquid gold.

She typed back: *I can't. I'm dealing with an emergency.*

Technically true, she thought, stepping back into the living room and sitting on her half-packed floor to watch the orange light fade from the wall. For the first time in months, she didn't feel like moving at all.