NIGHT OF MEMORIES
The bottomless pit had always, at least to me, smelled like beer. I was so young when I was first exposed to the well that I later thought beer smelled like the well. That was nothing new. What was new was that the child, I’m assuming it was a child that was trapped in the dried up watering hole because it made remotely human sounds, perpetually emitted weak noises, reminiscent of a radio program, a low droning. >>>