Blood

I awoke again to blood. That sweet-copper smell of blood thick in the air. Pungent, nearly overpowering, threatening to send me back to sleep were it not for the sheer panic burning in my chest.

Dripping. I can hear it dripping, somewhere. Something.

Dripping.

I swing my feet over the side of the bed where they land with a smack on something wet. Flicking on my nightstand lamp I am relieved to find it's just rainwater having leaked in through the open bedroom window. I get up to close the window, and as I'm forcefully jerking the misaligned windowpane loudly along its broken tracks I remember that I hadn't left it open. I never open it at all for this very reason. Still the smell of copper.

Of blood.

I yank my bath towel off of the chair and throw it down angrily onto the sodden floor to do its work. I mop a sloppy trail to the edge of the puddle near the bedroom door and pick up the sopping towel, discarding it into the bathtub with a heavy slap. Rainwater now trickles steadily drown the drain as I step back into the hallway and close the bathroom door. Still the sound of dripping.

Still the smell of copper.