My third and final vignette involving the sound of water:
I wake to the sound of applause. The thunderous clapping of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of raving fans slapping their hands together at great speed to celebrate what must have been a truly iconic performance. The bedroom of my apartment is tight and stuffy, my dog snores lightly at the foot of my bed and just as I’m about to settle joyously back into the darkness of my dreams, a dozen of the rampaging fans start banging on my window. They’re desperate, frantic, howling inarticulately for my hands to join theirs, adding credit to a performance I haven’t seen. They don’t stop, slapping again and again with tiny hands. My dog lifts his head, wagging at me expectantly when our eyes meet and he knows I’m awake. I groan wearily and throw a pillow over my head, trying to pretend I didn’t see him. But it’s too late. My dog loves walking in the rain.