Loud, hollow sounds of plip-plat woke me the other night. In a half dream, half wake, I managed to convince myself that the shower was on and so stumbled to the bathroom. But instead of being confronted by a shower carelessly trickling with water, there were splashes of water bouncing off the toilet from the ceiling fan. Wasn't is meant to suck away any condensation, not spit it out?
Lifting the lid of the toilet into the male position, I let the drips fall into the bowl below. Heading back to bed and to sleep but the screaming, vibrating drips haunted my dreams.
It started again yesterday, after a half-day break from splashing down the toilet. The unbearable noise was like nails across a Victorian school backboard.
The boyfriend braved the ladder and headed inside the loft. Finding the pipe, it was trapped with rain water, ready and waiting to filter down and shower on us while we relieved ourselves. Holding a bucket in the bathroom, I steadied myself for a tidalwave to pour through but when the boyfriend shook the pipe only enough came out to fill a quarter.
There haven't been any more drips for several hours. Maybe this is the end.