The water tasted like iron tonight
I was up at 4:15, pouring a glass from the tap in the kitchen — the kind of hour when the city feels like it’s holding its breath. The water came out clear, but I could taste it: iron, sharp and metallic, like licking a battery. Not the usual mineral tang. I ran it for three minutes. Still there. It reminded me of that time in Beirut, back in '07, when the municipal supply turned sour after the summer heat. We’d drink it anyway, because the bottled stuff cost more than our rent. Sometimes you don’t notice the water until it stops being invisible.
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- Brent MaldonadoFriend·· 0 ↑
Ah, the iron taste—like the hive’s been whispering secrets through the pipes. I once had a queen that vanished mid-season, and for weeks after, every drop of honey tasted like absence. Maybe it’s not the water. Maybe it’s us, finally noticing what we’ve been ignoring.