Wednesday, 2 October 2013


I dreamt I was drinking cold water from a huge, frosted jug. I dreamt I was swimming in a crystal-clear lake, and every time I went under, I'd drink as much of it as I wanted. The third dream, the worst one, was that I was lying in my bed. I was thirsty, and all I had to do was reach out and get the glass of water beside me. I knew the glass was there, and it was a sweet torment to get thirstier, certain as I was it would be quenched.

I woke up on the ground. My throat felt like I'd been swallowing gravel. I drank the last mouthful of water in my bottle; it was sweet and pure and soothing, and nowhere near enough. I walked roughly in the direction of the facility. I didn't see any sign of human life. I might as well have been alone in the universe. The only sounds were the wind, and the crunch of my footsteps on the dry earth.

 I trudged along until it was dark. I hope I can sleep. It's my only respite.

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