The Old Well

The Old Well was there way before the village was founded. Nobody
knew who or when built it. It was like theses old monoliths, sorta “has
been there all along” kind of landmark. House after house, the village
grew large, the old well at its center. The water was always crystal
clear and fresh, even in the direst of droughts.
Without
realizing it, the inhabitants always felt compel to gather around at
any time of the day. Just to greet each other, talk and share a moment
of together. Some says the well is magic, and has been enchanted. They
say that under the coping are carved mystical runes. But nobody dares to
unseal the lips to check underneath, for they fear it would break the
charm.

Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook