Greed

I walk along the dreary roads. It is dusty and dirty. The sand blows in the air and gets into my mouth. I cough a little. I swipe my hand on my tongue to scrape the granules off. I see a little blood on my fingers. I stare at it for sometime and then shuffle forward.  I look at the buildings and they are empty. The whole street is empty and I am pretty sure the whole town is empty.
Flying over a desert, my plane's fuselage sprang a leak and I crashed on to the sand. I had been walking since then. I had cereal bars, I had peanuts and I had water when I started walking. I had exhausted all of it and I had been searching for some sustenance ever since.
Maybe I should get into one of the buildings and see if the water works. But why is the street empty? Why are no people around? Should I break in? Should I resort to something that I wouldn't have done? Can I excuse myself in these circumstances?
My throat is parched. My vision is blurred. I want water. I want sustenance. I want the cool elixir pouring down my throat. I can imagine water on my face, on my body. I can imagine it on my tongue. I want water. I need water.
I walk to the nearest house. It is desolate. I try the door knob. I peek inside. I rattle the door. I can see the kitchen through the glass on the door.I am so close to water. I rattle the door again. My need for water is exceeding my need for safety. I bunch my fists and break the glass.  My fists are bloody and there are glass bits in there. I open the knob and I run to the kitchen sink. I hesitate for a second.
I turn the faucet. There is empty air and then a rumble and guzzle and out flows the water. I put my face under the faucet and gulp water by mouthfuls. My throat constricts but I don't stop. I remove my shirt as I am drinking the water. Water in my throat, water on my face. Cool cool water.