dripping - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The dripping increased neither in its rate or its volume, yet by the time I had read only two pages it was as good as a hammer to my ear drums. Part of my brain was analyzing the pattern, it was almost regular, but not quite. It was just chaotic enough not to come when you expected it and then drip when you didn't. Those little drops of water made my cerebral cortex hiss and recoil as if they were acid funnelled right through my skull. I had been so determined not to leave the warmth of my bed, curled in the duvet, oblivious to the white puffs of my breath. But now I must get up, put on my winter coat and go to the bathroom with a wrench, because God knows I can't afford a plumber.
Sitting on the grassy ground in the garden, he had found a comfortable spot for peace and quiet. Finally after a long day of noise and irritation he could relax. He could be alone with his thoughts. But then it started; the noise. It wasn't like an annoying itch that just wouldn't stop. It wasn't like a younger sibling that just wouldn't be quiet. It was worse. Way worse than both put together. Drip. Drip. Drip. With each fall of a single sphere of water it seemed to get louder. Each time it hit the ground the sound would linger, almost as if it was frozen in the air for a split second. Drip. Drip. Drip. He couldn't stand it anymore. He got up and left in search of a new place for calm.
Had it not been for the icy kisses dripping from the tree above, Mila might have slept on well after the sunrise. She was warm in her arctic sleeping bag, it was total overkill for fall in Seattle but she didn't care. Warm was good, warmer was better. At first the gentle drops had caused her to dream of jogging in the rain, no doubt the smell of the earthy woodland around her helped the illusion to continue. But then one had splashed onto her closed eyelid and instinct brought her crashing back to consciousness. The hues of the bark and wood confused her momentarily and then she recalled where she was. She was on her way to see Barney and there was a long hike ahead.
"Drip," "drip." I sat chained to a the wall unable to do anything but await my demise. I watched a scrawny mouse in the corner chewing on peices of wood and foam, expecting food only to spit it out in frustration. I envyed its freedom. "Drip," "drip." I turned my attention back to the leaking ceiling, "Drip," "drip." the water was collecting in a pool on the ground, it was getting into my brain; Each drip a petal of my sanity being ripped away.
The sound of water dripping can be quite annoying. Clearly, there’s a pipe somewhere that needs fixing or a bit of dressing.
Can you imagine the expense accruing? While it plays music on the bathroom tile or the kitchen sink...how frustrating.
In the still of the night, the water continues dripping,
Rotating… sometimes it falls in drops, slow or an intermittent leak that flows.
On a normal day, I would let it fall with no care at all but with this bill accrued to be paid, I say, hell no this must be stopped at all cost.
This dysfunctional pipe, dripping slow must now go as I must avoid this annoying sound and reduce the bill attached to it somehow.
Written by: Charmaine
There was the sound of water dripping into a liquid, the noise magnified like it was in an enclosed space, echoing around a dense container. Though the timing of each drop was fairly erratic, the rate neither increased or decreased. Travis forced his eyes open. If he didn't investigate the source he'd regret it, and probably sooner rather than later.
Through the dripping had been slow it had gone unchecked for some time, the small droplets falling soundlessly onto the aging wooden boards. The water had soaked in with ease, creating an immense circle of rot.