[ WP ] All you hear is a dripping noise .

*Drip... drip... drip... * 
 
 The man sighed, listening to the faucet's drips into the bath below. He could hear the splash even in the bedroom as he tried to let the day fade away. Did she have to take a bath now? Yes, she had just gotten home from work, but he had work of his own in a few short hours. The dripping made it all but impossible for him to form any peace of mind. A clock face glowed with green numbers, `` 2:47''. The man sighed heavily, grabbing another pillow to form a head-sandwich. *Being smothered would n't be so bad, at least I would find some peace in death*, he thought. It was just enough of a thought to distract him, allowing sleep to lure him in. 
 
 His subconscious apparently knew just how to drive him insane, using the sound of the drips to form aggravating nightmares. No matter how far he ran, or who he ran to, every sound consisted of a slow, steady, `` drip... drip... drip...''. Finally, he awoke, groggy and irritated. `` Drip... drip... drip...''. *Still?! * He must not have slept long. The clock told a different story. While the sun had not yet risen, enough time had surely passed for the faucet to end its relentless torture. Maybe his wife had left the tap on? No, she would have noticed it still dripping. Then the man realized her snoring was absent, as was she, from the room. Why would she still be in the bath? Worried, the man hurried to the bathroom. The door whined and creaked, protesting its opening. The truth flew out of the small room, filling the man's world. `` Drip... drip... drip...'' It was n't water, and it was n't from the faucet. The man screamed, hurt, surprise, and loss coloring his voice. 

