I need water. My throat is like sandpaper and it bleeds when I swallow. My vision gets hazzy and I hardly remember how long I’ve beenĀ here. One week, two weeks. I lost my water three days ago, and I realize I won’t last much longer. I start to stumble, and then my legs just collapse underneath me. I grasp my walking stick, and try to get up by putting my weight on it. I fall, hard on my arm, and feel the warm blood trickle down it. I see the vultures circling overhead, waiting for their next meal.
Great use of descriptive words, Grey!