Friday, October 2, 2015

The Sight of Water

He stumbled and tumbled down the steep side of the mountain.  His thirst had made him weak, and the sight of the waterfall caused him to forget to be careful.  He felt every rock and tree root on that hillside as he rolled down, but he knew that the water would be sweet at the end.  Then he could concentrate on how to survive the night.

Ashton hit the bottom and came to a hard stop. He laid there for a minute, catching his breath and willing away the sharp pain in his foot. Then he laughed to himself as he remembered the scene in Jurassic Park, where John Hammond also fell down a slope, then got eaten by tiny scavenger dinosaurs.

He slowly got up and stumbled toward the water. Every survival show he had ever seen was racing through his mind and he tried to remember what he should do about the water. Was it safe to drink straight up? Did he have to boil it first? He vaguely remembered something about flowing water being safe, so he made his way directly over to the waterfall, hoping that if he could catch the falling water then it would be safe enough to drink.

He cupped his hands and jumped when the ice cold water hit his skin. He brought the handful of water to his mouth and took a tentative sip. That sip was indescribable. He drank and drank until he had had his fill, then sat back and rested. All he could do was pray that the water wouldn't make him sick. And that someone would stumble through this way and find him. And that there were no bears in the area.

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