The Well
by MRMacrum
The bird floated past again. George wondered what kind of bird it was. Was it a vulture looking for him or some other unlucky forest critter? Maybe it was one of the eagles who called Treasure Island home? It was big and it was all George had to take his mind off his current situation.
The last words Sara said to him as he left to roust some Ruffed Grouse haunted him now. He used to chuckle at her cellar hole fears. He was not laughing now. He wondered if her childhood fear of abandoned cellar holes and wells had finally jinxed him.
George looked down at his leg. It had started to stink. There was still pain, but it seemed further away now. Everything was further away, out of reach. He reached down for the umpteenth time and ran a finger over the bone sticking out of his leg. No longer in panic mode, George accepted the notion that his life was not his to control anymore. Some other whim, spiritual or physical, had his fate firmly in hand.
George looked up the dank walls of the old well again. The bird was gone. Daylight was slipping away. He leaned back against the stones lining this abandoned well and considered whether living another night in this hole was possible. He thought not. George smiled. He had thought the same thing last night and the night before. George closed his eyes for what he hoped would be the last time.
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Listening for the words in a quiet corner of the night. The fiction, poetry, and photography of Jason Evans.
About Me
- Aine
- Collaborator and night owl.
Past Contests
- "Elemental" Short Fiction Contest
- "Uncovered" Short Fiction Contest
- "Silhouette" Short Fiction Contest
- "In Vino Veritas" Short Fiction Contest
- "Ascension" Short Fiction Contest
- "Running Wind" Short Fiction Contest
- "Whispers" Short Fiction Contest
- "Restless Dawn" Short Fiction Contest
- "Halo" Short Fiction Contest
- "Endless Hour" Short Fiction Contest
- "Silent Grey" Short Fiction Contest
- "Lonely Moon" Short Fiction Contest (with Anne Frasier)
- "Midnight Road" Short Fiction Contest
- "Two Lights" Short Fiction Contest
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Get the winners of the first 12 Clarity of Night contests in one place! Extras too!!
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38 comments:
Bleak and beautiful at the same time.
This was haunting. Thank you MR.
Wishing for death when hope of rescue is gone. Hope still lives, but what a sad hope.
Well done.
Poor George. Its a sad tale indeed.
But Sara will come looking for him. I am hopeful...
I loved the voice of the protagonist throughout the piece here.
Bummer.
I'm sitting here wondering why Sara hasn't been able to find him yet, and then I hit my word verification: wifed. As in, "I fell in a hole and thought I would be rescued, but I got wifed instead!"
That is so sad. Leaves with no hope at all. Wondering if Sara is searching for him at all.
Nice piece Mike. Good to see you expanding. Really well done.
Regards, David.
I think this story underlines why we should never eschew passive tense entirely. Its occasional use enhances our perception of the protagonist's mental state and parallels his progressive sense of helplessness and resignation.
(Sorry, about the alliteration.)
Cool tale, love the ending of him wishing death for himself
sad and poignant. Poor chap, hoping to die.
We live in hope eh?
Very sad and well written mate.
Sigh. A situation such as this is the worst to be in. But I loved the droll manner in which he accepts his death. And he's smiling too, for God's sake...
loved it thoroughly.
I liked the ending.
Wondeful and sad. Great and scary ending.
That really hit me right between the eyes. Bleak but in a sad beautiful kind of way.
The thought of being down in the dark with a leg in tatters looking up at the circle of light and seeing a bird with the sky as its playground and him fettered and enclosed.
Terrifying! I, like Aniket am holding out for Sara. I love the way the energy of the piece slows as his acceptance of death turns to longing. I like this very much Mike.
I'm just mad at him for not bringing a phone with him.
Thanks all for the kind remarks. I have had a fascination for "being stuck" since a friend many years ago was trapped in his car for almost three days down the side of an embankment piled high with mid winter snow.
Oh! No! I have those same stupid fears -- I can only hope they already remain just that. Well written!
How sad! But I'm holding out hope that she will find him!
Life is like this, we come alone, we leave alone, and the joy of it all is, when we accept this and move on, our lives change. nice read.
Will Sara fight her own fears? That is the question ...
not the best way to go, but truthful
This is very bleak and fits the picture very well.
Great to see you here MRM and a great piece of flash – well done sir.
Really enjoyed this one. Read it three times. Not because I didn't 'get' any of it, but for sheer pleasure in the delivery.
Then, I got to thinking how it could be improved. The only thing I could come up with was to do it in first person. So, re-read for the fourth time, replaced 'I' for George, changed some of the tenses and wow... it made an even greater impact.
Still, saying that is being self indulgent. I loved it. Certainly one of my favourites so far.
Hats off to you, MRM
I like the end; the smile of survival despite odds even as he hopes for the relief of death.
I love the visual of him looking up into the sky from the dark well. This is altogether disturbing and his distance or peace with it makes it more so, very resigned.
Nice job.
I liked the acceptance he seemed to have come to. I guess what choice, right? Anyway, really nice job here.
Now thats the stuff short stories are made of!
"his life was not his to control anymore". fantastic
Loved the sense of resigned despair. He's almost smiling.
Poor man. I like this very much. It does show that sometimes we need to listen to others a little better.
Jean Ann
A dark, sad tale. I liked it, but I expected a bit more desperation and panic from George. Oh well. Still pretty good story.
Bleak resignation is often lovely, and it certainly is here.
The MC is removed from his pain and emotion, one foot across the threshold, so to speak. And yet as a reader, I still felt emotionally connected. Nicely done.
You've set-up a wonderful scenario, but I'm curious as to how he got there in the first place. Even in the end, he shows signs of hope.
Dear Entrants #1-105,
I have read your pieces so that I can fairly participate in the Readers' Choice vote. (I read all of them through last week, before I started commenting.) I will be coming back around to offer my keep/tweak comment, but I didn't want anyone to snark.
Cheers,
Aerin (#236)
BTW, it's perfectly fine if you still want to snark, but this way you can choose a more appropriate subject, like the new Starbucks paninis or the people over 35 who are exclusively on MySpace
Thanks all of you for the comments. It seems I have much to learn about the ins and outs of this contest, or I guess any writing contest. First one I ever entered really.
Congrats to the winners, honorable mentions and those who made into the "forties" club.
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