The sun was high as Miriamne hung a small jug from one shoulder and raised her empty water jar to the other. She made her way down the dusty track that served as a road for Sychar, carefully picking her way around dung piles, left by donkey and dog. Three houses down a woman, with a baby wrapped and resting on her hip and a toddler at her feet, shook out her own floor mat. Instinctively, Miriamne raised her hand briefly to greet Shoshonna. Without seeming to see her, the other woman’s eyes narrowed before she sniffed and snatched up the toddler by one arm and hurried to duck back into her own little home.

Sighing Miriamne recalled the laughter they had shared while making countless trips down this same dirt track fetching water for their mothers. It seemed so long ago that they were girls together. And yet not so long ago.

She turned her face away from the village doorways and kept her head erect, eyes forward. If any of the other women were looking out of their homes to pass judgment as she passed by, she’d not deign to acknowledge them.

To read the complete short story, Wellspring, click here for the full pdf: wellspring