Tossing and turning, seven hours later, I awoke with a start.
I forgot my water bottle!!!
How could I forget him? I mentally chastised myself then fell back asleep. My dreams were full of water containers of every sort: water towers, crock pots, flasks, tea kettles, cactus... There was no way to escape the guilt I felt in abandoning my friend that had been so faithful to me, throughout the past several weeks.
When I awoke, my throat was dry and my thirst unquenchable. Hurriedly, I dashed off to class and tried to think of my studies...
Theatre History.
Stage Movement.
Intro to Literature.
Work.
Around 6 O'clock in the evening, with the sun waning in its celestial arch, I snuck to the place where the brook babbles and the leaves are crunchy. My heart was racing--I experienced a wave of terror--IT WASN'T THERE!
"No! It has to be!"
I tried to imagine life without my water bottle--(I would have to get a new one!) The thought of my very own water bottle (which I typically keep by my side in waking and sleeping) being in the hands of some stranger with ill intentions, or worse yet--! In a garbage dump...oh no...the thought was too horrible to comprehend.
Just then--perhaps out of hopeful thinking, I thought--I spied a corner of maroon peeking out through nature's debris. On my hands and knees, I splashed about the crinkling cornflakes and discovered my bottle! It had burrowed under the pile of leaves for warmth!
"Ha! Ahaha!" My choked-up laughter echoed off Hruby hall and a nearby student cocked an eye brow. It didn't matter to me--I was reunited with my bottle of water!!
Joyously, I hugged the thing close to my body and promised never to leave it again.
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