Fixer

He stood with clothes soaked, thinking hard against the night cold.

You can't undo what's been done. So you can't unbreak what's been broken.

The thoughts came slowly, as if forming each one was like swimming upstream. Steady, but labored.

You can patch it fine. Patch it perfect even. But it's not the same animal as when you started.

He looked for anger but it never came.

Blame is useless. Absolutely necessary. But absolutely useless.

Sensation vanished from his arms, but his hands remembered the motions. Board and nail and hammer, nail and hammer, nail and hammer.

Just do the work. Ignore the water. So much water. Do the work.

the hands continued, in spite of the mind, drowning out the rambling with the clang of metal and wood, and he welcomed this. somewhere deep he felt there was a point he was missing, but the dam needed to be fixed. it was his only certainty, and he would not let go of it.