The Deep Hollow

Night fell. Cold air gathered. I stepped out from the clay shelter... slow. Ahead rose a ring of cracked grey stones. An old well mouth. I stopped. Stood still. Watching. Pitch black inside. Silence. I reached out one heavy fist and set it upon the damp mossy rim. Solid. I leaned forward, peering down into the endless gloom below. The dark called. No bottom visible. I gathered a small loose pebble between my fingers. Dropped it. Counted slow heartbeats. A faint, distant clink returned from the deep. Quiet world below. I stepped back, settling my solid frame against the well's cold outer wall. Waiting. Good dark.