”Why doesn’t it work” I scream as I kick the pipes underneath my sink.
I need water. It’s been too long since I last drank.
My throat is dry. So dry that every word hurts.
I can’t call anyone. The storm killed my phone.
I need water.
There should have been enough water outside after the rains, but the drought before had made the ground thirsty.
The only water left is now buried far below me.
I know there’s only one way to get it. I should have dug for it earlier. But I clung to the hope that the pipes would work again.
I grab a shovel from the shed. Every step eats whatever energy I have left.
I can barely breathe. My throat is so dry.
I need water.
I dig, but there’s nothing in the ground apart from dirt.
I have to get further down. There has to be water.
I can’t get enough air.
My throat is so dry.
The dirt starts to turn into mud.
I’m too thirsty.
The water starts to pool beneath my feet.
I get on my knees and drink. The water feels heavenly in my throat.
I try to get up, but I can’t move. I can’t move my legs.
I’m too tired.
I fall down into the mud and stay there. Unable to stand. Unable to move.
Why did I wait this long? I think as the sky opens up and I can feel raindrops hitting the side of my face.
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Categories: flash fiction