The downspout was the real problem. Water had pooled there, heavy and still. Lena poked a stiff wire down the pipe—once, twice—until, with a gurgling gluck , a dark snake of muck slid free. The backed-up water shuddered, then began to drain with a satisfied sigh.
The gutter was a museum of neglect. A slick, black sludge of decomposed leaves, moss, and what looked like a tennis ball from 2019. Lena sighed, plunged her gloved hand in, and pulled out a fistful of the stinking compost. Beneath it, water had been backing up for weeks, staining the fascia board a weeping brown. unblocking gutters
Then she poured a cup of tea and listened to the rain—clean, directed, no longer a threat. The downspout was the real problem
She thought of the email she’d drafted to her boss on Friday—the one about stepping back from the overnight shift, the one she hadn’t sent. Too messy , she’d told herself. Let it sit. But like the gutter, letting it sit had only made the overflow worse. Her sleep was stained; her patience was rotting. The backed-up water shuddered, then began to drain
She’d been ignoring the telltale sign for a month—a small, optimistic maple seedling sprouting from the downspout corner. Now, as she hauled the aluminum ladder from the garage, a fat drop of water landed on her nose. The sky had decided to stop threatening.