Legend says the well chooses its pilgrim, not the other way around. You do not seek it. It calls your name in the voice of a grandmother you never met, or a future self who already drowned.
To stand at its edge is to feel the weight of every promise ever lowered into darkness on a frayed rope. The water does not reflect your face. It reflects the faces of those who would have been —the children never born, the words never spoken, the hands never held. the chosen well of souls
They say every village has a well, but only one well has a soul. And of those, only one in a thousand is chosen . Legend says the well chooses its pilgrim, not