Aster Gamarnik ’23
Echo Rain gently patters on the hood of my coat, clumsily tumbling down to land on my nose. The seams of my tattered boots surrender to the surrounding mud, as my exposed socks dampen. Yet my feet remain firmly planted in the ground. Those insufferably stubborn things have probably grown roots by now. A whisper of fog escapes my lips and dances away into the glum, darkening sky. An hour: that’s how long it’s been. That’s how long my eyes have been resting firmly upon that old well. Perhaps we are having a staring contest? A true bonding moment. After brewing in the steaming hot mess of a head for a while, my thoughts finally settle, formulating a simple composition. I let those words cascade from my mouth, unsure of their intentions, not conscious enough to care. “You know? We’re a lot alike, you and I.” I wait foolishly for a response, but the only consolation I receive is the sound of little droplets who finally decided it was time to let go. What if those droplets were leaving behind their little droplet friends to venture on into the abyss? Is it heroic? Is it self-destructive? Or is it all the same thing? But who cares anyway? It’s just a stupid droplet. After realizing the pathetic tangent my feeble brain decided to travel down, I fixate back upon the well. “It’s funny, isn’t it? They use us. They use us but never appreciate us. Those people wouldn’t even dream of giving us a second thought, of considering us. That is, unless we are no longer able to serve them. Beyond getting their personal needs, they couldn’t care less. It’s funny, isn’t it?” Only a melancholy murmur of droplets answers my desperate call. Is silence my only solace? “And then they never think about how much we can take. I mean . . .” A raw dread clasps my throat. “Your poor walls can only hold so much water, just as my head can only hold so many of others’ burdens. It’s . . . It’s only when we break down or flood that they notice. Only then. But what about until then?” My eyes trace up the cracks in the stones to rest upon the old well again.
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