Posted by: pakalil | May 21, 2008

The Dried up Well

old well

by Meodif

And there he was, looking down into the dried up well. He dropped a coin and could hear the echoes of the metal hitting the ground. Dry, the well was completely dry. How could this be possible? The night before the source was overflowing with ground water. If he had known that it was his last chance he would have dived headfirst.

Emmet was at a loss. He laid his hands back, rested his feet against the well and faced the stars, hopeless. He discovered that hidden place by accident, on one of his night excursions, around five years ago. Emmet was a writer and he always longed for space, some quietness to give his subconscious freedom to work. He would stroll aimlessly throughout the night, unhurried, and return home at the crack of dawn.

One night, however, he did not return. He woke up by a brick wall with the sound of birds and the morning sun shining directly in his eyes. He did not recognize the place. Nonetheless, he felt at ease and in control. There was a well and a golden bucket tied with a rope. Emmet guessed that it was hanging there to draw water and without hesitation he dropped the bucket and raised it back. It came up filled with clean, tasteless, odorless and cold water. Emmet was thirsty and covered with sweat from the night before. He drank the mysterious water, washing his face and chest. He was puzzled, but in a positive way, and spent the entire morning there, alone, lost in thoughts; there was a sense of self-discovery after all. He headed back home paying careful attention to the path, so he could return.

As far as he could learn, that old source of water had no owner and no past. He was the only one who visited the secluded spot. It became his private temple, a place where he could sit down and let his writing and imagination consume him.

Everything seemed perfectly fine until he started to fear the water. Why did he never see any trace of a human being around that pathway? Was he cheating himself? Did he need to look for other sources or he could rely completely on that one? One by one, all these uncertainties started to transform Emmet. He was blank, washed-out and couldn’t write anything.

And there he was, looking down into the well in disbelief and despair. It was dry. If he knew that it could happen, he would have embraced his gift and that inexplicable water. Now, he had to rediscover his power, strength and drive.

Inspired by your post about writing, May 14th. This story is about the magical sources of creativity and the challenges of diving deep into ones subconscious. Thank you, Miki!


  1. Pour Emmet! He was given a special gift but an irrational fear took him away from it. I guess if he could control his feelings, certainly he would find the pathway to refill the well with a fresh and pure water. And during this journey he would learn how to calm down his mind and to find the correct words that live inside him. And how to persuade these words to go out and dance gracefully in a blank sheet of paper iluminating the eyes and the soul of everyone that reads it.

    Don’t give up, Emmet! Every single artist has his/her fears to overcome =). Sometimes, it looks impossible, but there are so many ways we can try! I’m trying, every day, believe me. And if I can try sure you can also!

  2. Miki,

    I edited the passage: “He was puzzled, but in a positive way, and spent the entire morning there, alone, lost in thoughts; there was a sense of self-discovery.“. I’ve made a mistake there.

    xx, love, P.

  3. =) I just can’t remember how was written before :p


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