She’d been meaning to fix the rusting groaning pipes for a while, but as usual there was always something more important coming up taking over her time and her thoughts. As the rust colored puddle grew on the floor she sighed loudly. Suddenly the pipes had made themselves the most important thing in her life and it occurred to her that like her marriage, they had waited til a most inopportune time to rupture and burst.
That thought sparked another and another until she was no longer sitting in her kitchen staring at cupboard under the sink. Instead she was scrolling through pages of memory like a computer screen showing her life with her husband. Jagged red lines underscored all the errors, the angry curses shown in symbols and the love, what little there was left, highlighted in a rosy glow that became paler through the years until those pages were nothing more than simple sepia tones faded like pictures from the past.
The moments where they fought were angry orange like a fire burning white hot with a suppressed heat from wounds left unspoken and unhealed. The moments they made love were strangely colorless and bland, almost antiseptic. She could almost see the suggestions made by her mind that would let her fix, undo, redo, and save all of her memories from being so sad and painful and although she realized that it was just in her mind, she longed to edit out the bad and recreate it with better memories, happier times, and more time to love.
As she finished replacing the old fittings, she looked at the memories and decided that maybe a new o-ring was a good start for her life with her husband as well. Replacing the things that sealed them together, holding in the good, cleaning up the tarnish and rust that kept them from coming together and meeting in the middle, might be a good way to save the marriage instead of having to tear up the foundations and start all over again with inferior materials.
Finished with her plumbing work she decided it was time to start cleaning up the mess.