She lay beneath the blanket, fully awake —

another sleepless night

and she mindlessly counted

the drips of water as they gently

splashed into the bathroom sink.

1, 2, 3, (the number of times she

has given birth.)

4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, (the number of years

she has been remarried.)

10, 11, 12, (the number

of years since her divorce.)

and on she went until she arrived at 49 —

(her age, as of her last birthday.)

She closed her eyes and envisioned her days

as the seemingly endless drips of water —

passing one by one —

slowly at first, then quickly until one seemed to

flow into the other —

“the sea of life,” she mused —

until eventually, the “tap” would run dry —

a thought that more often than not, frightened her.

She lost count somewhere before 250,

then tossed and turned in her sleep

as notions of drowning invaded her dreams,

while she fitfully floundered to keep her

head above water.