Last Drip

Written by: Luca


I sit. The sun blinds, as the ground becomes drier by the day. The persistent dry weather starts to add patterns to the soil, adding cracks throughout the surface, and is firm to one’s touch. I sit. Continuing to watch the bright light, I sit in the scorching temperature. I feel the streams drip down my face, as I take layers and layers off. The shirt sticks to my body as it moistens to the touch of sweat. The constant desire for water, but trying to preserve the thirst till the last moment. I pray thinking maybe, we’ll get blessed with a cold shower. Yet that has been going on for days. Losing my temptation, I grab the bottle with one last sip. Drip by drip my tongue juts at the taste of water. A breath of relief and the last drip falls into my mouth. I sit. Another day. One more day. Just maybe, a sprinkle from above. Pray they say. Days go by and I do, I pray.



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