Drips

Amy sat in the near dark of the candlelight and crocheted the afghan. She rarely had to look at her new creation because she had been crocheting since the ripe young age of 6 and knew the feel of the yarn and hook as well as she knew her own name.  The stitches came naturally to her nimble fingers.  She didn’t, however, often crochet by candlelight.  Tonight it was necessary. 

The storm had begun about 6:30 in the evening.  First it was softly raining, something Amy found to be very soothing.  But then the first roar of thunder made her jump.  Amy didn’t mind storms but she hadn’t been expecting it.  Soon after, the lightning began to create a surreal light show accompanied by the percussion of thunder which rattled her windows.  Shortly after 7:00, a bright flash and a loud crash occurred at the same time, causing both the lights to go out and Amy to squeal in surprise.  She had gone to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the matches.  She kept the candles on a shelf near that drawer so it was easy to find them. Once two were lit, she carried them to the living room and sat them on the bookshelf near her chair.  That had been three hours ago.   She had managed to crochet a large addition to the afghan in that time but her fingers were tired now, and so, it seemed, was she.  A jaw cracking yawn overtook her, so the young woman put down the yarn and hook, blew out one candle and picked up the second to light her way to the bedroom.  That was when she heard it.

At her bedroom door, Amy heard a steady drip, drip, drip of water.  She tried to use the candle to find where the drip came from but had no luck.  She checked her bathroom to be sure it wasn’t simply a faucet left open, but that wasn’t the case.  Amy checked across her bed to see if the blankets were wet, but there was no sign of water there.  She soon found herself on hands and knees making her way inch by inch across the carpet searching for water spots.  As she reached the wall near the window, her hand came down in the wetness.  She sighed and stood slowly.  She grabbed the empty waste can from near her bed and placed it where the drips would collect inside instead of ruining her carpet.  She went to grab a hand towel and when she stood near the candle she glanced at her hand to see it was covered in something dark.  Why, she wondered, would the leak be discolored like that?  She wiped her hands on the towel and turned to set it on the counter just as the lights flickered back into a dim glow.  Amy turned and what she saw made her dizzy and nauseated at the same time.  She wanted to take a step back but the dizziness took over. Amy lost consciousness.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s