Drip Drip Drip by Mark Antony Raines

Drip Drip ,The water drops into the silver pail bucket.I meant to get around to fixing the roof but the sound of drip drip drip is resounding in my head.
All I can think about at my work as a call centre worker is that damn drip drip drip ruminating around and around in my my brain to the point I not doing my job very well indeed.
Today unless called in by my line manager to say he will have to let me go but I have to work my weeks notice.
I go back to my apartment and I see the bucket is full of stake water which has a sort of chloride smell.
As I lay in bed trying to get the sandman to give me a call it's that damn drip drip drip drip it starting to jar.my already fragile nerves.
It's my last day at the call centre today and I  brought in an extra special gift for my fellow workers whom I decided were not worth the effort which is most of them.
The clock hands move slowly and it seems a second runs longer to get from twelve to twelve ,tick ,tick ,tick,tick.
It's time to sort out that drip drip drip drip out of my head so I reach into my bag and I produce my old colt 45 which is loaded with six bullets each incline in order the names of my fellow workers I wish to be no more to be part of my life.

I cock back the trigger and release the safety lock and bang bang bang ,blood is flowing like a crimson river ,screams of fear and panic,bang bang only two more bullets left.
I fire off the last but one bullets then before security can get to me I put the colt 45 to my thumping head and bang ,the last thing I feel is a cold sharp burning as a piece of lead travels through the flesh and bone of my head through my brain out the other side,I am dead but at least their is no more drip drip drip drip.