I was parched. The sun was very high in the sky and the fine sand was hot under the soles of my blistered feet. Latunka Lambo was a desert town, meaning hot sun, sandstorm and scarce water was the norm. My feet hurt but I was used to it because I could not afford the cheapest shoes in the market.
I hung the two raffia baskets I knitted all through the night on my shoulder, scrambling to get a good space among other petty sellers in the market square. If I could sell the baskets for a good price, I would have enough money to eat for two days without begging for scraps.
"Hussain, your raffia baskets are beautiful," Amijna, the head fisherman's daughter, commented as she passed by with some fresh fish in a bowl full of water. I licked my dry lips, the cloudy fish water was inviting. I would have accepted it if it was offered to me. That was how dire my situation was.
"Thank you, Amijna." I replied with a forced, slight smile, to prevent my dry lips from splitting open and bleeding. "I hope to get a good price for them. How's your sister, Nivri?"
Other sellers close by glanced at me and her.
Amijna smiled, waved and walked away quickly. She had always been nice to me despite the societal gap between us. Most people did not talk to me unless they wanted to buy any of my raffia handiwork.
My throat was dry and I longed for some cold water. If I could sell just one of the baskets, I would first buy a sachet of cold water.
I glimpsed a camel drawing close to the market. On it sat an attractive woman. I hoped she would buy my raffia baskets so that I won't go to bed hungry again tonight.
I hope you enjoyed reading my piece. This short story is a five-minute freewrite inspired by the prompt "a bowl full of water". Join the 
