Written in a minute: short stories

The Well

There once was a boy, and a well on top of a hill. The boy was young, and charged with each day scooping water out of the well and bringing it back into the house. What made this day so distinguished that I mention it here? Well...

On this day, the well's rope was broken. The boy peered all the way down the stony tunnel, and asked 'where is the rope gone?' The boy felt stupid and now lost. How was he to get the water? The boy didn't have parents. Some people had taken him in, and to work off what he had owned them, he was charged with certain duties, one being getting the water from the well. When he returned to the house with a dry bucket, first he was kicked before he could explain. When he did explain, they tossed with some rope, and told him to get going. Now the 'parents' would get their just revenge, however, that is not what we are to focus on. 

Instead we look to the boy, who looks up at the cloudy sky, feared getting wet. His clothes were thin and fraying, and he had only recovered a sixth month ago from his last cold, and if he became out of work again because he was bedridden, then he was sure that his meals twice a day would certainly go back to one a day, and the thought of being so hungry again made him start to run. If he could run, then maybe he'd make it back in time. 

When he got to the well, he started to have pricks of anticipation. He could not yet see down in yet, but he thought it looked odd. As he finally mounted the hill, he discovered that a wooden panel had covered the hole, and that it was nailed down! 

How was he to get the water now? He fathomed. He tried tugging at the wooden boards but it was no use. He banged his hands upon the service, feeling a sob caught in his throat, but he wouldn't cry! He growled in frustration and looked up at the greying sky. 

"Yes?" 

The boy turned quickly back to the well. He had heard a voice echoing up it. 

"Is someone is there?" He asked in shock. 

"Well of course. How do you think you get water from me every day?" The voice droned, bored. 

"Oh, well I need water again, but there was no rope before, and now the well is boarded up."

"And?"

"How am I to get some water if it's boarded up?"

There was a pause. The boy started to wonder if perhaps the man did not want to answer him, and had simply left, wherever he was now. 

"You could take the stairs? I had to board it up because otherwise the water with all this rain would overflow and ruin the books."

"Books? What other entrance?"

To be continued...