Title: Withdrawal
Rating: PG
Genre: General/Introspective
Pairings: None
Word Count: 277
Summary: It was destined, one might say, that sooner or later he'd find himself in this dire predicament.
Notes: Written for the "empty glass" theme at seed(underscore)fic(underscore)test on livejournal.
In the desert, every drop of liquid was precious. Without it, you could die, but to obtain it wasn't easy. The need for this life-giving substance was a daily struggle, fights breaking between those who had and those who had not. Luckily, he'd never been on the losing side of those battles.
But no one has a perfected winning streak.
It was destined, one might say, that sooner or later he'd find himself in this dire predicament. The glass was empty, physically empty; and no matter what half-full/half-empty view he held on life, it would not fill the canteen in his hand.
He was wise enough not to panic right away. No, panic was only to be done as a last resort. Now, he had to keep his mind clear and try and figure out a way to solve the problem before it was too late.
"If I could just think of a good way to find some water out here…"
Frowning, he rubbed at his temples. It was becoming more and more apparent that on having gone so long without a drink, his ability to think straight was not as precise as it usually was.
"You're going to get a good laugh out of this, aren't you?" He remarked to someone far away.
Picturing that very person in his mind, he sighed.
"No, you're probably already laughing at me. Aren't you, Aisha?"
Andrew Waltfeld tried once more to elicit a drop from the canteen, only to be met with nothing.
"Now I know what they mean when they call it the 'cruel and grueling desert.' Middle of nowhere and no coffee- what a cruel place indeed."