Through the Dark Culvert

I set out past the garden gate and walked down to the street curb to see what a city sewer really felt like. Near the asphalt edge sat a wide iron grate over a concrete culvert basin. Peeking down, it looked deep and dark. I leaned over the curb stones, but loose gravel slid beneath my rear foot, sending me skittering straight down the smooth incline into the shadow beneath the grate! It was pitch black in the basin, so I let out a loud, hollow bellow through my crest to test the echo—a massive roar that bounced right off the slimy concrete walls. Finding a shallow trickle of clear runoff flowing through the tunnel, I waded along the damp channel until it spilled out into the open daylight at the neighborhood roadside ditch, stepping back out into the sun dripping with cool water.