He held his hand up to feel the water. It had been such a long time, he started weeping. So many days in this prison cage, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt fresh water. Then as if it was only a dream, it stopped. Did he imagine it? He raised his hand in the darkness and felt his face. His palm was dry, tears were the only moisture here.
The Bag Lady 
Aw, that’s so sad. Very well written.
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Thanks for visiting
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so powerful! Great take Cheryl!
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Thanks!
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Oh this is such a poignant story Cheryl. I do hope he gets to experience the rain and freedom. Thanks for joining in.
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