Short Story about Water

I’ve been finding myself to be very thirsty lately, to the point of dehydration.

I don’t understand it, because I drink a lot of water — just ask my coworkers who put a daily “tinkle reminder” on my calendar because they usually have to wait for me every time we before we go to lunch (“Okay I’m ready I just have to use the bathroom really quick.”).

It’s so poignant that the other day I didn’t bring water with me on the shuttle to work and it was not not a problem…

There was no sink in the bathroom, so when we got to the next and last stop before the hour long ride would ensue I knew this was my chance: get off and find some store and wait 45 minutes for the next shuttle (meetings: I no longer knew that word).

Or perhaps I could run off and get back in time before everyone in line got on? And I would collect water by natural means — the lake wasn’t far… were the flowers still saturated from last nights rain?

“Could I survive the hour long shuttle ride?”, I asked myself.

I’m tough, but a unfamiliar torture was fast approaching.

I reckoned something had to be done.

And then I saw it.

I moved seats and spotted a beautiful blue tinted plastic enclosing liquid.

Fizzing bubbles of carbonated glory.

A bottle of Dasani flavored water from the work kitchens.

Unopened.

There was nothing you could give me that I would have chosen over this wonder of the world.

Not gold.

Not diamonds.

I stared.

It was all I could ever want at that moment and the upcoming moments — should I live to see them.

Now the desert-like feeling engulfed my body.

I needed to get my hands on this.

The owner looked friendly enough.

But he had just put on headphones.

My opportunity was gone.

A colleague of mine who had confirmed via text that she was empty handed, boarded the shuttle.

I asked her for advice on acquiring the bottle, whose cup holder now bore the fellow’s personal bottle from home.

She was confused.

I didn’t explain.

I couldn’t.

The delusion started enveloping me.

I fought it.

Again.

And again.

There’s more difficult things in the world.

This shouldn’t be impossible, I thought.

Minutes passed.

Delusion swirled.

The owner fumbled with his headphones.

There it was!

My chance!

In a fit of courage, “excuse me sir …”. He smiled and looked up… “may I ask you a huge favor… can you pour a bit of your water into a glass for me?”

I didn’t even show the vitamin bottle I was ready to pour out just to contain an ounce of this earthly element.

He smiled and without a word, handed me the bottle.

The heavens opened.

Concurrently as did the bottle.

The twist of freedom.

An explosion of euphoria.

The foam landed on my lap, atop my new Calvin Klein dress.

I didn’t care.

Calvin could wait.

My body could not.

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