i was in a basement room with someone i'm sweet on. we were looking through my mom's old LP collection: king crimson, zappa, the beatles, zeppelin. he asked if the turntable there worked, and i said, "i'm pretty sure, but the needle might need replacing."

suddenly he was gone and i was left standing there holding a "bay city rollers" record. the light changed from table lamps to a bare swinging bulb. i heard water dripping and looked up. the walls and ceiling had been wallpapered over but up in the corner the paper had a little pinhole and drops of water were coming out. "shit, we have a leak from that toilet upstairs," i thought, and went over to investigate. as i did, another leak sprung through. "damn," i said. then another leak. then another. i finally called up the stairs, "leon! can you bring down some pots or something?"

"what?" was his reply, irritated.

"there are leaks down here, i need pots and pans to catch them!" i shouted. i was getting close to the wallpapered wall and ceiling and noticed it was bulging and looking thin. against my better judgement i poked at it and was shocked at how easily it gave way, the way my finger slid right in. i pulled it out and a gush of water flowed out. the hole i'd made weakened the rest of the wallpaper and more and more spots were wearing through, water pulsing out, all over, splashing on the cement floor, on my mom's LP collection, over my bare feet and the cushions me and my sweetheart had been sitting on. i started to panic a little and climbed up the stairs backwards a few steps, watching the basement flood, calling, "leon, leon hurry!"

suddenly the lights went out completely, both upstairs and down. leon was stomping through the hallway at the top of the stairs, swearing, "fucking lazy bitch. get your own fucking pans. i'm not your fucking gopher. FUCK." i started crying there, on the bare wooden stairs, in the dark, cold water swirling up around my ankles.

"leon, please!" i shouted, too afraid to move in the dark. i craned my head around to look up through the dark doorway and saw his silhouette standing there. he wasn't swearing anymore, but he was taking off his work jacket, and saying, "fine, but YOU better fucking be the one to bring it back up." he hurled the balled up jacket at me through the dark. i tried to cry out that it wasn't his coat i needed (though i did suddenly figure out i was naked), but pots and pans, to catch leaks. i tried to dodge the coat, and the movement sent me rolling off the stairs, head over heels, and into icy black water.