docwithablog | choices.

From his window, he’s got a perfect view of the well. Of the girl trodding steadfastly back and forth between her house and the middle of the square to gather yet another tub of water, drag it with her back, return, repeat. Why so much, he thinks. Does she have a whole hoard of siblings that need bathing, need drinking (although, local sources are contaminated, but what choice do they have, not everyone can afford to buy the stuff bottled). He shrugs into his t-shirt and turns away, letting her live for as long as these conditions will allow it.