Down the Well
Rie Sheridan Rose
“It used to be a real well,” Greta said, leaning her chin on her crossed arms.
“Like, in the old times?” asked Pete, standing on the other side of the stone circle. He peeked over the edge curiously.
“My dad says this used to be a farm long back. The well went dry, and they couldn’t keep going,” she replied. “Now people throw coins in it.”
“It’s a wishing well?” He levered himself up on the wall, leaning out over the edge. “How cool is that!”
He jumped back from the well. “You have any coins?”
She reached into the pocket of her overalls and pulled out a handful of change.
Pete grabbed it out of her hand and darted back to the well, tossing the whole handful into the hole. There were a series of muted plops and a couple of plinks…there must be a bit of water left in the well after all.
“You asshole!” Greta screamed, stamping her foot. “I didn’t give you all of those. I didn’t give you any of those! My lucky silver dollar my grandpa gave me was one of those. I gotta get it back.” Continue reading