The corner panel is yellowed plastic, anchored by grout lines that hold a perpetual dampness. Late afternoon light angles across the tile, illuminating a condensation ring beneath the dispenser. A faint, metallic scent of ozone hangs in the air, a scent that suggests recent, unnecessary activation. The button, a dull beige square, requires two distinct presses. The first press releases a thin, cool stream that immediately slows to a slow, rhythmic drip, wetting the damp grout. Yet, the system remains inert, demanding the second, confirming the initial action was somehow insufficient. I watch the drip fall, tracing the path of the water against the tile, waiting for the drip to become the expected, steady flow. The silence between the required presses is heavier than the expectation of the resource I am waiting for.
static · uneasy