Weird, I don't remember spilling anything.

*plop*

What the fuck just fell in my coffee?

Such events sparked a case of the ol' suspicions as I looked up before leaving my third floor apartment to go check on old man Fogey upstairs, I bet he'd left the sink running again.

I reach the door and give a knock that implies urgency with a need for haste as my mind drifts back to my kitchen table still getting soaked by the droplets from above. There is no immediate answer and I begin to grow impatient, I start tapping at twice the rate with a few of my finger bones while repeating the same 4 words "Fogey, you in there?"

Still no answer, I don't know what to do.

The traffic outside dulls down and I realise that without it, hearing becomes easier. I use this short window of opportunity to press my ear up against Fogey's door and listen for any sounds. I can certainly hear water running... why so much water?

My heart begins to race as my mind and body look to each other with the same thought, "This probably isn't a good idea". I hurl myself against the door, bounce back, it's not quite as easy as TV makes it out to be, but I eventually broke the latch and entered Fogey's saturated apartment.

I tread slow, I don't know why. I still only hear the sound of running water and head toward it without even realising. The sound brings me to another door, the only shut door in this apartment... ugh... I bet it's locked too. Figures. I begin the hurling process once more.

As the door slams open I watch it bounce back toward the closed position, this usually indicates that you've come across an immovable force, Fogey wasn't immovable though, he was just dead. I almost said "excuse me" as I stepped over his body to pull the plug from the bath and switch the taps off. I guess that would have been silly though. So I apologised instead, which was equally illogical.

I reach into my pocket to grab my phone when I notice the white tiling on the floor. It wasn't white  any more. I take a step back in confusion when the reality hits home, I'd just killed old man Fogey with his bathroom door. I can't say for sure that I killed him, maybe he was already dead before I launched the corner of a door into his skull.

Maybe not though, and maybe I'm going to prison. To think, all of this from the sound of dripping water. fuck you Fogey, you old incompetent and now definitely dead bastard, you've done a right number on me.