@dannyrector8: The Missing Well I did not come here to wish. I came because the well is deep enough to hold what I cannot say out loud in a room where your things still are. Deep enough that the echo does not return the way it left. I leaned over the edge the way you used to lean into doorframes—casual, like staying was easy, like leaving was something that happened to other people. I said your name. Not to call you back. I know better than that now. I said it so the stone would have to carry it, so the dark water at the bottom would have to know you had been real. I have been holding the sound of you in my chest long enough. I needed somewhere to set it down, even for a moment. The well did not answer. But the walls took the shape of the word. The water held the weight of it. That was enough. I walked home the same way I always do, past the fence post you fixed twice and never quite got right, past the tree that still leans the direction the wind was blowing the year we planted it. I will come back. Not to wish. Never to wish. Just to speak your name into something deep enough to keep it.

Danny Rector

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Wednesday 21 October 2026 19:26:15 GMT