Oct 30

Faded view


My fingertips grasp at every crease in the water deprived soil. My knees cut and raw, from scraping them so many times. This is it. My body can no longer take the absence of liquid. I rest my head in the ground. It's cool on my cheek bone. Soothing almost. I spread my hands out beside me. Resting them gently down. My left hand comes down gracefully where as my right hand, instead of landing on sand lands in something that makes my arm hairs stand one edge. I turn my head ever so slightly. My vision blurred from the dust in the air. I can see enough to make out a small puddle of gray. I am no longer able to move. I am a fallen statue, covered in dust, and torn rags. I blink a few times getting the sand out of my vision. And I see a pond. Water! Just the thought of the word gives me a rush of energy. I slowly crawl over to the divot filled with murky liquid. I know that bugs have already infested the water, but I slowly cup my hands down. I watch the water seep through the cracks of my fingers. The water is hot, and thick. But I let my lips rest on it anyway. Slowly letting it glide down my throat. I open my eyes and lick my upper lip. The heat of my tongue against the chapped part of my mouth hurts but it doesn't matter. All I can think of is the awful putrid taste the water has left in my mouth. I look up, know on my knees. The sun's glare in my right eye. But instead of seeing a vast mass of dessert I see a outline of a building.
 
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