Return To Last Trip The The Well Part II

The park had fallen on hard times. What was left of the Gazebo was a few planks of wood overgrown by a bush. Chunks of concrete spotted the dirt. Sometimes the ground got muddy even on dry days. That was what reminded him of his magic wishing well. Somewhere down there was a wellspring of magic. All he had to do was get to it.

It was harder to get explosives than he had thought. He ended up making his own, using information on the internet. He’d blown off a finger testing it at the abandoned highway.

After dark he came to the park with a large duffel full of explosives, detonators and wires. He dug as deep a hole as he could, but there was still a lot of concrete, from the foundation of the old gazebo.

This used to be his land, this used to be his magic wishing well. But he’d played it all wrong and now he had to sneak onto his own territory to blow the one good thing he’d ever had back into existence.

When he detonated the explosives, a large chunk of concrete struck him like a cannonball, along with smaller chunks and a good bit of dirt. He pulled himself out of a pile of mud and blood, but it felt like he couldn’t breathe and he was spitting up blood. He couldn’t see with his right eye, but his left one saw a large hole in the ground. He thought he heard a gurgling sound but that could have just been his badly damaged throat.

As he crawled towards the hole, he dug into his pants pocket for a penny. If he could make just one wish…

--Dan Kilian

--------------------------------------- Last Trip To The Well

--------------------------------------- The Critic Masturbates