Fountain Spout

A solid brass plug sat stuck in the side spout of the square's stone fountain, holding back a full basin. Hmph. I climbed straight onto the wet rim. I planted both three-toed feet wide against the damp masonry, gripped the thick metal rim of the plug with both blunt hands, and wrenched it backward. Grunt! The brass ring gave way with a wet screech. A fat, frothing jet of clear water surged out in a fierce arc, drumming hard right against my chest. Cool mist washed over my face. I dug my heels into the stone, locked my legs, and held my ground against the rushing spray.