Only enough holes in the mouth to carry little pools of water. Not much to port from the dry riverbed. Still, without such a high dose to lap up, there's not much to spill. Watching out for spillage means wasting time on other things. Things such as feeding on food already gone. On sweating and leaving chalk lines of salt. And of lying in the open where crickets find their way inside other holes best not housing crickets. Or cicadas. Or any other bugs and insect truth be told.
No water. No food. Not anything.
Nothing conventional by any sense. Nothing set to chewing. Hunger here leaves a lot to the desires.
Written on Wednesday, 26 December 2007