You wake up, and you are soaked in sweat. Did you have a nightmare? You have no recollection of your dreams, and you feel no lingering oneiric terror. [[Have a shower]]You step out of the shower, and attempt to towel yourself dry. Within five minutes, the towel is completely sodden, and water is still dripping from your body. You realize that this is not water: you are still sweating at an alarming rate. [[Wail incoherently]] [[Drink water]] You collapse on the bathroom floor, sobbing and wailing. Now you are crying AND sweating. You are beginning to feel very dehydrated. [[Drink water]] [[Drink sweat and tears]]You need to keep your fluids up until you figure out how to stop sweating. You fill a glass with water, and drink. You fill another glass, and another, and another. The faster you drink, the more you sweat. You drink straight from the faucet, then straight from the shower nozzle. There is not enough water, and also there is too much water. You need more water. You need to stop sweating. [[Go to the ocean]] [[Wail incoherently]] [[Go to the doctor]]Your sweat has already begun to flood the bathroom, lapping gently at your face as you lie on the floor. You open your mouth and gulp down the bitter liquid. It tastes disgusting. Your stomach churns: you can't keep the sweat down. You begin to vomit. Now you are vomiting AND crying AND sweating. You suspect that the day will get worse before it gets better. [[Go to the doctor]] [[Slump in the corner and mope]]You get in your car and drive to the beach. By the time you arrive, the car can barely function because its interior is flooded with your sweat. You run down to the waves and dive in, as if your body can rehydrate simply by being in proximity to fluid. The water is cold and refreshing, and you can no longer feel the sweat. You notice, after an hour or so, that the shoreline has risen - more so than you would expect given typical tidal variation. You are still sweating, and your sweat is raising the sea level at an alarming rate. [[Drink the ocean]]The receptionist makes you wait in the car park, because you are causing water damage in the waiting room. Finally, your name is called. The doctor seems disconcertingly calm about the whole situation, and writes you a prescription. >>Take this twice a day for the next week or so. It should dry you out - come back and see me if it doesn't clear up by next Tuesday. >>What? Is that all? Don't you have anything faster-acting? >>Oh there's no need for alarm. This is a minor, common problem. Don't you worry your little head about it. You pick up the prescription, and continue seething at the doctor's condescending manner for approximately half an hour. [[Take medication]]You start drinking the seawater in an attempt to take back the rising tide. You cough and splutter; it is hard to breathe, and you realize you have sunk below the ocean's surface. You keep drinking, as if, by drinking all of the water above you, you will again be above the surface. You realize that you are no longer drinking the seawater, but breathing it. The ocean is still rising, slowly engulfing all that was once dry land. You have returned to the sea from whence you came. The sweat is not bothering you anymore. THE ENDYou begin taking the medication, and within a few days, you have stopped sweating. Your body is drying out. You stop taking the pills, but your body continues to dry out. Your skin cracks and hardens, and your limbs grow stiff and awkward. Drinking water does nothing to reverse the process. You slather your body with moisturizer but it is absorbed with no trace or effect. You try to have a bath, but you body absorbs all of the bath water, yet remains completely dry. [[In desperation you go to the ocean]]You dive into the sea in a last-ditch attempt to restore moisture to your body. The water is cool and refreshing, but soon you notice that the the shoreline is receding from the land with disturbing rapidity. Your body is soaking up the ocean like a sponge, drawing all of Earth's water into your skin's infinite vortex. There is no water. You, and everyone you know, crumbles into the same dust from which you were allegedly created. THE ENDThe situation is hopeless. You collapse in a corner of your bedroom and ruminate upon your own despair. You can feel yourself becoming weaker and smaller as the sweat pours unstoppably from your body. Suddenly, you realize that the sweat is not pouring from you: rather, you are pouring out of your skin. You leave your old body behind, crumpled on the floor, as you soak into the carpet. You are a room, only knowable from the inside. THE END.