The flowing tap

Alone, she stands in front of the running tap, her smooth hands clasped around the empty cup which she is in no rush to fill. 

As soon as two sets of foot prints were made, they were soon washed away as the vicious desert wind blew the tiny brown particles around the desert. Her wrinkled hands dangle by her sides while her smooth hands swag confidently as they forged ahead, one step after another, in search of water in the immediate term, shelter in the medium term and eventually their home village. They had come from the south and were moving steadily but the impact of the harsh environment was evident. What were initially white shirts had now become a light brown with large yellow circles centred around both armpits. 

What is she waiting for; she had been in the desert from many days, with little recent nourishment and uncertain about when the next tap or oasis would appear. But she still stands, expressionless, with her cup held tightly in her smooth hands. 

They were laughing; it had been a tough journey however they had kept each other going. They each valued each other’s company; initially out of necessity but currently out of desire. In the distance, the effortless curves created by the desert sand were interrupted by a rigid linear structure. To the naked eye it seem like a tap, however this may have been the delusion of a thirsty pair. 

The tap keeps running until a puddle is formed at her feet. Her porous shoes soon allow water to first hug her second toe, then her first toe followed by her third, forth and fifth toes. Soon her whole left foot is wet quickly followed by her right foot. Her smooth hands still hold the cup tight. 

As they approached the object, its contours became sharper and its shape easily recognisable. To their surprise, their initial assumption was correct. In the desert lay a tap. Her wrinkled hands turned the tap and a clear fluid began to stream out. They were both filled with delight. Her wrinkled hand quickly got out her bottle and filled it to the brim with the clear fluid from the tap and without hesitation, she began to consume it. 

The tap’s shadow appeared then vanished, appeared once more and again vanished as she stood in front of the tap. The shadow appears once more and their she is, in front of the tap, cup in her smooth hands. 

She retreated from the tap after a series of rapid gulps. Her wrinkled hands wiped away the fluid dribbling down the side of her mouth as her throat rose and sunk as each gulp of fluid descended down her oesophagus. She stood, smiling, her cup in her smooth hands waiting for her turn to fill it. The fluid was at first refreshing, then a bitter, iron like taste crept its way from the back of her tongue and spread in all directions. “Don’t”, she said as she approached the tap with her cup in her smooth hands. 

She stares at the puddle with great intent, her smooth hands still; as though in the puddle lay the answer. But if the answer is in the puddle, what is her question. Maybe I shouldn’t have dropped the bottle, she thought. 

Her shout was followed by a minor thud as her wrinkled hands dropped the bottle then another thud when she fell and began to jerk and seemingly froth at the mouth. In fear, her smooth hands grasped the cup tighter as in the quest for nourishment, she would either experience the same fate as her counterpart of have to persevere with the hope that eventually another tap would be found.      

She sees green at the edge of the puddle. Where the soil is damp but not submerged, small shoots have to emerged. This clear fluid is life giving, it does not take away. As the shoots lengthen so does the distance between the edges of her lips. Delight creeps across her face and her arms slowly move her weary smooth hand to place the cup beneath the tap. Refreshment is to come, she is sure about it. The fate of the wrinkled handed would not be her fate and her patience guaranteed that. 

Themes: patience, wilderness and mother/daughter  

Your turn - Submit a 600-1200 word piece of fiction below based on one of these three themes and a selection will be placed on the blog. Happy writing .