The Iron Lever

I pushed through the wooden garden gate and found an old cast-iron water pump bolted over a timber trough. Its long curving handle caught my eye. Planting both feet squarely on the wet timber planks, I reached up and gripped the iron counterweight with both hands. I drew my weight downward, steady and slow. Inside the dark cylinder, a thick leather piston groaned against the casing before yielding with a heavy, sucking thunk. Cold well water surged out in a clean arc, splashing over a forgotten tin watering can below.