By Ajay Patri
You wake up with your throat parched drier than the skin of a desert beast. Blinking under the fluorescent lights, you spot a man in white and make little gurgling noises to attract his attention. The words in your head do not reach your lips so you beseech him with your eyes instead. He smiles knowingly and, getting up, sweeps the sheets away to show a tube going into your stomach. A clear liquid trickles into your body, a drop at a time.
That will keep you hydrated.
Bio: Ajay Patri’s work has appeared in Muse India, Spark, Toasted Cheese Literary Journal, and Every Day Fiction, among other places.