We crash through the thick brush until we find the small cement building. It is overrun with weeds and vines of ivy that creep up its outer walls. The entire area is overgrown and unkempt. Wild weeds sway in the small breeze that tickles my nose with various scents of musky building and wild vegetation. To the left is a crumbled brick well with a broken crank that would have once been used to pull water from the well. Weathered boards lay loosely across the top, acting as a weak barrier.
I put my hands on my hip and spin around, trying to understand how this place could be the new well. When I heard about the new well, I had expected something newer. Not this abandoned shed.
“This is it?” I ask, unsure if I believe them.
“Yep.”
“Who is in charge of it?”
“How would we know? We are ome
