A tear dropped again into the well disturbing the stillness of the water surface like its predecessors did as he leaned over the open well. Life seemed unfair to him. He was contemplating suicide as the thought of jumping head first into the well was rather enticing; it'd end his misery he thought but mom's wailing was like a chain around his neck restraining him and dad's sad stare spoke volumes.
This was unbearable, the walls of hope were crumbling down. A scorpion's sting would feel like a mere scratch on his sun tanned skin which was devoid of moisture after roaming about like a nomad in search of a greener pasture.
The uncertainty and speculations fogged the view of any hope and the futurity of prosperity was vividly blur.
A still small voice whispered to him "you're alive". So he reclined from his position over the well and looked up to the heavens and heaved a sigh of relief, it was enough prayer to his Creator for intervention.