One day I decided I was fed up with how we shared our goods. Not because it was a chore to climb down the hill only to scale someone else’s just for a loaf of bread in the morning—as a matter of fact, I enjoyed those early walks. It was the frequent interruptions on my hill made by someone popping up for a bucket that got on my nerves. Every time I would insist, “Just send me a letter. I can carry it for you.” I don’t think they believed me.

I dug a cavity in the midst of the valley as a proof-of-concept. A few nights passed, and I found a basket filled with fruit at the bottom. Next morning there was a pair of recently knitted socks. At some point I left a barrel of water. Soon everyone was using the hollow as an exchange center, and over time it was upgraded and built around to better preserve the goods and to keep wildlife away, though the conceptualization remained mine.

Now that water was accessible down yonder, the traffic on my hill lessened dramatically. For the measly effort of renewing the supply every morning my privacy could be perpetuated without bound. If I grew lonely, I would only have to pay a visit at the hollow, which always teemed with chatter and gossip. It was, perhaps, my greatest achievement so far, and the one that brought me the most joy.

In hindsight, I may have overindulged in its benefits. The notion that I could do anything without being questioned was intoxicating. I wanted to experiment with my boundaries—if I screamed at the top of my lungs from the hill, would anyone hear me? As it turned out, the answer (to my knowledge) was no. That set me loose. I started writing songs. Well, ‘writing’ is a bit generous. I mostly went outside and shouted some words with varying intonation, until I got bored or out of breath. It made no sense, of course, and it didn’t sound good at all, but I kept doing it because it was fun.

At some point early in the summer, I woke up and my covers had been dampened by sweat. I was too weary to pay attention to anything but my need for a cold shower. Without so much as getting dressed I went to the well to grab a bucket, only I didn’t watch my step and fell right into the moldy abyss.

It was cold. But at the same time, it was warm. Hygrosensorily. I couldn’t see a thing. The only moonlight seeped from above, and below the moist darkness enveloped me like a warm blanket. That’s what I’m getting at.

I sat down there for some time, not really doing anything. I wasn’t in thought, either. I just sat. Comfortably.

Mm. Okay.

The well began to light up with dim streaks of the emerging dawn. I climbed out. I don’t remember how, but it was probably trivial. I filled the barrel and headed down the hill. The sun stuck my clothes against the skin. Someone asked me why I was wet. I dropped the barrel and shrugged.

As the summer days grew hotter I found myself spending more time in the well. It became my effortless substitute for proper showers. I didn’t care if it was dirty down there—it was no cleaner going through the bucket into my tub. In fact, the bucket may have muddied its contents, having carried so much water in its lifespan. I, no doubt, got healthier by the minute, each day bathing in the water at its purest stage.

The first time I fell asleep down there was a pleasant memory. That day likely was the turning point, after which I began spending more time in the well than anywhere else. I’d already developed a creeping suspicion that this could be detrimental to my health, but I couldn’t help myself. Everything seemed infinitely better and simpler inside the well in comparison to what lay outside. And it’s not like I hated my life outside the well—I like to think I’m a generally happy person—but my life inside it was ineffable.

Sometimes I would sit there and try to convince myself that the darkness I saw was merely a snapshot of some grander cosmic painting, and that if I just turned my head I would see the bigger picture and everything would click.

I never did turn my head. Why would I? The answers to which questions did I seek? And even if I did find something worthwhile, why would that matter? The world would go on just as it would if I didn’t look. I could perish in the well and it wouldn’t matter that much. Someone would eventually notice that the water supply wasn’t refilling, and someone else would manage the hill in my place. Maybe they’d find my skeleton down there. I wonder what my skeleton looks like.

Then one dusk you showed up on my hill. You called my name. I was too embarrassed to reply, so I sat in silence. You said you came to ask me something. You peeked down the well. It must’ve been just too dark for you to see me. I saw you clearly. It almost seemed like our eyes met for an instant. That didn’t happen, though. It couldn’t have.

I got upset after you left. I think somewhere in my heart I’d hoped you would have seen me. You would’ve asked me why I was there, and I would’ve told you all about the world at the bottom of the well. Maybe I would’ve convinced you to join me, then every afternoon you would come to my hill and sit with me in the well.

It was okay, though. The well was just as appealing without you. Without me, for that matter. The well was perfect without anyone needing to be inside it.

I saw you at the hollow the next day. You came to me, and asked me where I’d been. I nodded. You didn’t get it. I realized I made a mistake. A stupid mistake. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid? How is that a word? Stup-id? Stu-pid? You asked me if everything’s fine. I said “.” You said you saw fewer people ever since someone dug the hollow. I said “,” and you continued talking. Did you say you missed seeing me especially? I don’t recall.

You started crying. People were looking at you. Everyone saw you. Everyone saw you cry. You were crying right in front of me. I felt sick.

I ran up my hill, filled another barrel and returned to the hollow. You weren’t there when I came back. Now the supply was doubled. I wouldn’t need to refill it tomorrow. I went back to my hill and sat in the well. I think I sat there for the rest of the day. Then I fell asleep, and after I woke up I sat there for a few more hours. It was the best feeling ever. My mind had never been clearer. Maybe I smiled.

Then you showed up on my hill again, and you called my name again, and I didn’t answer. You went to the well and looked down. You saw me. You chuckled. You asked me why I was there. I said “⢓㚥⟰㌌㥁㒓⫋⯑⽧⥴к㠘⮖ⷦⶨФ☙⠐ИヵⵚⓂ㧁” You asked if you could join. I shook my head. You jumped in, and the well became warm. Thermosensorily. I shook my head again and again. You hugged me and kissed me and said you love me. I gagged, and told you that you ruined it all. You undressed us both. “ㅙ⷟⠮┓㏼⠤ⷙ⠧㓙⺼⠝⪅┇㚭⠥㓙⪎⭘㏶⭪⾛⠚⠭❕㦃ぁ㖙” we cried in unison. I threw up. I threw up again. You told me your deepest, darkest secret. You told me of all your hopes and dreams. You told me about everything you didn’t want to be. You told me how much this meant to you. I screamed. You didn’t get it.

The next day you were at the hollow again. You asked me whhHHHhhHHHhYYhYYYYYWwwYYYᾊᷦHWHYἮᷔW⪯㞝㦱HWYAwwᓂᾚ㠥Ḵ㟗Hy⪆Ὧὣ⫵㟧Ḣ㟨㝤㞇㟃㞭ᾄ㧎⬉㦧ᓊ⪇⬍ᑃ⪍⪧⪢⩸⪓⩠⩞႒ႵჍჱლႢႤ჏Ⴚჩᄀ჏ႬჵႍღჯႜႸაჹჱႋ႑႑ჽ. I shook my head. You just didn’t get it. Everyone was crying. Everyone was crying because of you. You had to ask????????

My well was missing. There was no well on my hill. Someone took my well. Who took my fucking well? No one said anything. I knew it was you. I went to your hill… Where is my well??!!??!?!! You said you’re worried about me. You just don’t fucking get it. I went in your house. I looked everywhere. It was nowhere. I didn’t look in the basement. It was in the basement and you couldn’t HIDE IT ANY LONGER FROM ME THE WELL IS MINE GIVE ME MY FUCKING you slapped me, and held my shoulders. you opened your mouth. brownianian noise came out of your mouth and your ears. Disgusting.

the basement was empty. The water supply was empty. We’re Going to die, And YOUR FAULT (it’s. Youᔝб❞ぱ⾾غ㒽У。⠄⢢❱В㓖ぴФ㐢⠐⡄л㦆゗㗑йⷴ⮢ⴕ⢅У㓧⩮⮧㑼ࡦЁᓻЬ❠か⾸ؽ㒠е➟⡧㐊⡧㌲㙴⠀л㓫⫛⬰㑦ࡵ What’s so difficult being exactly like Me?!!!!!!! What DON’T YOU GET it

You admitted everything. You led me to The well was over there in the Mountain. Papa said not to go there. Thats why you put it there. you are not a good person. i am a good person didnt hurt no one

“LET GO OF ME!”

THE WELL WAA BEAUFITIL. BEAUTIFUL. It’s was nice to come here. So deep and dark and quiet and peaceful. Lovely, isn. thiS? now I am happy. Happier than you will ever be. I am happy. you’ll never be Happy. I am SoHHAPY. this sgreat. happy happy happy happy happy is happy me is happy, and im gonna be ok

The well was back in its place. I filled a barrel and took it down to the hollow. You were there. I left the barrel and went to you to apologize. You asked me what for. I said something. You laughed.