[ CW ] Use the words ice , cold , and chill somewhere in your story . The catch : it must be summer .

The ice bobbled gently in the chilled glass; raising the water to my parched lips, I rejuvenated as I greedy quenched the refreshing cold liquid. 
 
 The back of my throat burned from the soreness of drinking too quickly. 
 
 The cup was grabbed from my hand and flung onto the dry soil; small jewels of remaining water raced down the edges of the broken glass and were quickly stolen away by the desert heat. 
 
 `` You had your water, now face your god'' the man behind me said as he pushed me forward. 
 
 I collapsed onto my hands and knees, wincing slightly as searing pebbles dug into my baked flesh. My eyes, bloodshot and starchy, looked out on to the horizon. 
 
 The heat before me was dancing, pulsing with insanity and unforeseen energy; I wanted to join it and leave this place forever. With a single shot, my dream came true. 
 
 
 

