The Mysterious Well

Long time ago when i was a kid, i used to fear going alone to the village well,
Dreadful stories that were told about that well, scared the hell out my nerves,
There was once a woman who went to fetch water late in the midnight,
As she neared the well, she could hear clangorous cries of small babies,

Piercing through the air, she crawled towards the top of the well to confirm,
She saw two old men seated on logs murmuring at low tones,
At the middle, children were chasing after each other like hens,
Others competing in a slapping contest, “slap me I’ll slap you back,”

Mature women with long grey hair were seated on a sisal mart,
Grinding cereals on nthio “the rock of life,” a stone that fed generations then,
Young girls playing lisu, the tough game of chances that dominated the minds of our sisters,
She saw a pack of angry dogs running after a brown pussy cat,

Drum beats could be heard from far,
She narrated how she saw youthful men dancing towards their fathers,
With beads of dead sea animals hanging above their ankles,
This was the most frightening real story ever told of the mysterious well!

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