thirst - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Lila slumped onto the floor of the bar. It would be hours before her mother stopped serving the rowdy patrons and remembered she existed. Smoke billowed and eddied around her and through the dark room echoed inebriated songs. Her own throat felt more dry than the baked summer earth outside. After the heat of the day it was little wonder she had need of a large drink, but there was no way for her to get through the throng that clamoured for beer and whiskey. The evening droned on until she spied an unattended pint. She was of course forbidden to drink it but her hand clasped around the glass before a second thought could caution her. The drink was as warm as the overheated room but she had it gone in less than a minute, hating the taste but loving the feel of the liquid. When the last customer left her mother found her curled on the floor asleep, she smiled and went to rouse her but she did not wake. She shook her, but she slept on. Panicked she ran for the town doctor...
It occurred to Gina that she'd never truly been thirsty before. Drinks had always arrived before she knew she wanted one. They were sparkling, cool and flavoured, the ice jangled and enticed her to drink. Never once had she drank to quench her discomfort. But now just plain water would be a God-send. The urge to drink dominated her thoughts. She should stay hidden, Mac was out there, but the sensation was quite unbearable. She slunk out from behind the beer barrels and removed her heels. This was not a time for noise, even if it meant dirtying her baby-soft feet.
It was a thirst like I'd never known before. Even my saliva was thick like wallpaper paste. My throat felt parched as if the skin had been extracted and laid out in the scorching sun to dry. It gnawed at me, tormented me and I could think of nothing other than finding something cool to quench it. My head banged and throbbed and as the dehydration advanced I became more desperate, searching for something, anything, that contained liquid.
I licked my lips, trying to wet my mouth. I put my eye up to my water bottle and saw all the way to the bottom, as if it would have magically filled itself while I wasn't paying attention. My tongue swiped across my lips again. My mouth was dry, and I panted from the heat, which wasn't helping. A slight breeze blew past, making my open mouth even drier. I wished I'd listened when she'd told me to fill up my water bottle when I'd had the chance.
Some people say they have a thirst for knowledge, but I don't think they know what it means. My brother had a thirst for knowledge. He read every book he could get his hands on about whatever his pet topic was and poured over the internet searching for more. He didn't just learn it either, he savoured it, devoured it and was never satiated with what he found. His intellectual curiosity was a thirst akin to acute dehydration and no matter how much cool water he was offered, it was never enough.