Looking for hope in a drought, squinting at the sun in hope of a cloud, Nat brushed her dust-ridden red bangs out of her face and pulled her horse's reins up sharply at the sight of a small stream that, remarkably, was still running clear and clean despite the drought and how much it had shrunk in these first two weeks of summer. She tucked her rough-for-a-woman's hand through the gap in her steed's bridle and pulled him over towards the water, bending down herself to soak up some of the sweet, thirst-quenching, water. She cupped her hands just below the water (upstream from the stallion, of course), her knuckles brushing a few pebbles out of the nooks they rested in and changing the flow of the stream, if ever so slightly.
----
Poll Options:
Printed from https://writing.com/main/polls/item_id/2151869-Drought
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 8:50am on Dec 22, 2024 via server WEBX1.