Johannes Punkt’s Flaskpost

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Tag: well

How Little Girls in Schoolyards Lie

Is it true that, at the bottom of a deep well, with your eyes adjusted to the darkness, if you look up you will always see stars? Down where there is always night unless the sun, directly above, reaches down for you?

The answer is no, there are no stars, they kept you here with only the gurgle of water for company, no bucket or ladder or sky, stone lid above your head. Once a day, the sun reaches for you, but it only has a minute or so and it is not enough.

She said they would be back.


You ignore your friends’ cheerful jeering. You climb down into the well, past the point where brick turns into mud and rock, realizing that claustrophobia is not the crippling fear of the malevolence inherent in enclosed spaces, but the much more reasonable, more crippling, fear of never ever getting out of them. You wish you had come to that conclusion earlier because now everything itches and you keep seeing sinister faces in the light of your still wristwatch. You can no longer hear your friends’ jeering. Has it been five minutes? The bet was five minutes. Your throat stops working.