When I awoke, I was in complete darkness. I heard water
dripping near me. Its slow pace reminded me of the faucet in my house growing
up. I would hear the metallic plink of the cold liquid hitting the sink every
morning when I woke up. Rather than being a comfort, that memory made me ache
down to my fingertips. I shoved the normally warm memory aside and stood
slowly, wary of the height of the ceiling. Once I was at my full stature, I
reached out with my fingers and found a wall and began inching towards the
sound.
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