《The Choices We Make》Charge

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For the second time in one shift, Tiphanie experiences the overwhelming power of water under pressure. She has not even had the chance to actually dry herself off from the first dunking when the second catches her completely off guard. It simply wasn’t a thing that she could have expected.

This time there is no couch on the floor below to save her.

The torrent of water slams Tiphanie against the floor, and knocks the wind out of her severely. The sheer volume of filthy fluid flung from above forces her to flounder and fall, fumbling furiously for any feature she may find.

The current pushes her toward the existing hole through to the floor below. Water finds every single gap it can exploit to flow through the station and make use of porous partitions that were previously not problematic. She slides across the floor, the torrential waves cresting over her head when she finds herself unable to stand.

Tiphanie is at a severe risk of drowning in the two feet of depth that the burst pipe drops onto the tram station platform. The current does not permit her to stand, and she is unable to catch her breath from the atrocious assault against her abdomen. The spin gravity pushes the water to flow in patterns unlike those perceived on planetary pools. Instead of puddling politely upon the floor, it flows across once it meets a restriction to its path.

The water splashes hard against the storefront windows. It drags her toward the gaping hole in the floor.

The hole that is spanned by several barely secure patch cables.

Several live patch cables.

Several highly charged live patch cables.

So far, the fragile fibers are holding up against the flow that puts her at such great risk. If they had already failed, she would already be fried.

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Tiphanie does not want to be fried. That is not on her agenda for the day. There is not a work ticket assigning electrocution to her schedule.

Desperate, Tiphanie launches herself sideways, aiming perpendicular to the current and trying to just get out of the water. This only succeeds at actually losing her footing and sending her on a brief ride closer toward the awaiting disaster.

The surprising thing about water, particularly for someone who has spent most of her life living in tightly contained environments where the only flowing water exists in the plumbing, is that it doesn’t take terribly much depth for a current to be terribly dangerous. The depth required to move a person with a current doesn’t even cover their knees. This high pressure torrent does not give her even the slightest chance to escape.

In her efforts to free herself from a terrible death, Tiphanie catches her fingers on the edge of a air vent on the floor below. Significant amounts of dirty water flow into it, leaving the depth of that which flows past much lower. With her fingers entwined in the metal grating and her arms stretched to their limit, Tiphanie’s jawline touches the waterline. There is no way she can stay like this for very long.

For some people there is a particular narrowing of focus when one’s life is truly in danger. Tiphanie’s world view collapses in on itself. She cannot see the attempts to save her. Said attempts are most definitely in progress.

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