“May I have a drink?”
A large goblet was delivered to the server for the person requesting a drink. Could easily hold a gallon of water, and encrusted all around with rare jewels and fine works of gold.
As the server began their way from the source to the thirsty, they were stopped. The person stopping them took a sip from the goblet. “It’s only a sip. It doesn’t matter.” The sipper also pinched a piece of gold off the goblet. “It’s only a sliver. it doesn’t matter.”
The server continued on their journey to the thirsty, but they were stopped many, many times. Each time, someone would sip some of the drink and take from the goblet. Sometimes the sips were delicate, as if only to taste. Sometimes the sips were deliberate gulps, as if there were no repercussions. Sometimes what was taken from the goblet was loose already and would have fallen. Sometimes a knife was used to cut down the goblet to match the lowering levels of fluid inside.
The server finally arrived at the thirsty, and placed in the outstretched hands what appeared to be a small lead plate, not even large enough to be a coaster. It held just enough moisture to dampen the surface, but it was not enough for a person to even wet their lips with.
The thirsty looked at the now dry clap of metal then looked back at the server. But the server was already gone, having left to rejoin their number in the ranks far away.
“May I have a drink? One for me, please?”
All those between the thirsty and the source began berating the thirsty for their greed. What was served was enough to satiate all of them, surely it was enough for the thirsty as well! How arrogant for the thirsty (having no water of their own) to demand a gift twice when everyone else is content with what they have taken already!
I watched all this passively, and I had had enough. I went to the source, having only my hat to draw water with, and filled it to the brim. I noted how short the path it was from the thirsty to the source when the thirsty had anything to give, and how long the path from the source to the thirsty when the thirsty had anything to receive.
My hat leaked as a cloth hat would, and despite my quickness of movement and avoidance of those that would steal what I have taken, only a third of what I drew arrived to the thirsty.
I know the idea of drinking from someone’s well worn hat is gross as hell. But I also know when you are at the point of dying of thirst, the condition of the container is not a point of contention.
The thirsty drank and emptied the hat. When I took it back, the hat was full of water again, as if I had just drawn it. I offered it to the thirsty, but they handed it back to me full.
“As you do for others, perhaps you should do for yourself.”
The voice had changed. I looked at the thirsty and saw they had become a distinct person. Someone with recognizable features.
The cornea of his left eye was completely clouded and opaque.
Rather than hurl expletives at him for the trickery, I lowered my face into my hat to drink.
Before my lips touched the water, I woke up.