Posted: Mar 07, 2010 4:24 pm
by thaesofereode
. . . for hours he'd sat in the meager patch of shade, watching the two tiny vials taunt him from within their cushioned box. Finally, his eyes two bullets of grit in his head, his mouth so parched he could no longer move his tongue, and with the last rays of the brutal sun disappearing over the horizon, he reached for the first vial. His fingers shook so hard he could hardly close his hand around it, only to discover that the cork was so tightly seated he might never get it open. Briefly, the feverish thought arose to simply break the bottle, but knowing that would cause some of the precious liquid to be spilled and lost into the sand forever, he mustered the strength to try one more time. "Lost in the sand," he thought, "like me." And with that, the cork was loose, and he raised the vial to his mouth and drank.

. . . To Be Continued . . .


[edits: a touch here and there; corrected typos.]