He was just a drop of water again. Tiny. Unremarkable. And utterly, completely free.
He looked at the hundred dark tunnels. Then he looked up, at the faint, watery light from the manhole cover.
He came to rest on a sandbar of congealed… something. He didn’t have a word for it. He was new. flushed away 1 10
He hit the grease and didn't slip. He stuck . Panic welled. He was a drop of water on a hydrophobic surface. He was immobile.
It was a 1-in-10 chance any pipe led to the sun. But the wall led straight up. It was a thousand times his height. It was impossible. He was a single drop of water. He was just a drop of water again
He began to move, a steady, determined roll along a slick of bio-film. His first challenge: The Grease-Falls.
It was a cathedral of pipes, a roaring, misty cavern. Water sprayed from a dozen leaks, forming temporary rainbows in the weak light from a cracked manhole cover far, far above. And before him, the outflow split. A hundred small mouths, each whispering a different song. And utterly, completely free
10. The memory of the number was a single, clean note.
He stopped. The number was gone. The hum was silence.