“I don’t want to.”
“Drink, I say! You look very thirsty.”
“But… Hey, what are you doing?!”
Streams of water pour on me. I try to face away… I try to cry foul… but my voice drowns in the streams.
I splutter. I cough. A gray dusty clot, almost weightless, lays inside my empty head. Dehydrated words are tied in a bunch like Chinese tea.
I choke. I’m full of water. The words start to spin in the whirlpool and swell. The words take shape and color. The gray dusty clot unfolds inside my head… blossoms… and slowly fills the entire space. Now there’s nothing except a big moist poem here. My head is full of the poem, like a tiny teapot with beautiful blooming tea.
“Well, my girl… Now… do you realize how much you were thirsty?”
I wipe my wet face and cuss mildly. She smiles and says something… but I don’t listen to her. I open my laptop. WP Admin, Posts, Add New…
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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