Water, water, everywhere...
Betty woke up on the cracked desert ground, lips parted, straining to take in every bit of moisture from the air. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth, coated with she knew not what.
Her dream had held water, more than she could imagine. She'd sailed on blue waves, dived in billowing surf, lain on her back and watched the pillowy clouds float on currents of air through azure skies.
Yet all the boards did shrink...
Her feet had burned from the heat of the wooden planks keeping her small skiff together. The ocean itself had cooled her skin, but its salt clung to her, its waves reflected the scorching sun back upon her. What relief was there? How could she escape?
Yet not a drop to drink.
She laid back on the cracked ground and contemplated her fate. She closed her eyes, and prayed for another dream.