drip

drip

drip

A rhythmic melody of water drops woke her from a light slumber on the cold ground. As a drop of water ran down her forehead, she looked around at the bleak landscape consisting of only grey tones. Not seeing a single clue to how she got there, she stood up slowly. 

Maybe this was some sort of manic dream. Or maybe she’d finally gone off the deep end after all these years. 

Whatever the reason for this strange, foreign land, it was peaceful. All she could do was listen to the melody of water drops. 

drip

drip 

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Annie Noser is a 14 year old writer from Ohio, who enjoys drawing, painting, reading, and acting in their free time.