The Last Oasis



The wasteland stretched endlessly, a parched sea of cracked earth and broken dreams. For days, she had wandered beneath the merciless sun, her throat raw, her clothes stiff with sweat and dust. Survival in this dead land was never guaranteed—only fought for, tooth and nail.
Then, she saw it: an old, rusted water tower leaning against time, its frame groaning under the weight of decades. Most of these relics had long gone dry, but as she approached, she heard it—the delicate sound of life. A soft trickle, water slipping through a corroded seam.
Her heart pounded as she touched the stream cascading down like a fragile silver thread. Cool. Real. Pure.
With trembling hands, she stepped beneath it. The first drops kissed her skin, washing away layers of dirt and despair. She closed her eyes, letting the water trail down her face, her hair clinging like dark silk. For a fleeting moment, the wasteland disappeared, and she felt human again.
The world could burn tomorrow. Raiders could come, storms could tear the earth apart—but here, now, she had this oasis. A secret mercy in a world of ruin.
And for the first time in weeks, she smiled.