This story was previously published online by Yesteryear Fiction.
“Go and fetch some water Hassim,” my mother said. I picked up the buckets
and started to walk down towards the river. As I did so I overheard her
talking to her aunt.
“At least the well is safe now. It hasn’t collapsed for two years.”
Adam opens his Bookshelf yet again and finds The Poisoner’s Handbook by Deborah Blum.
Just Another Graveyard Shift, by Tom Swoffer. Read by Charles McFall.
“I know it’s the second time this week he ain’t showed up. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?”
Whenever my old lady starts up with me, telling me something stupid I already know, something she expects me to do something about when there’s not a damn thing I can do, it really gets under my skin, like an itch you can’t scratch away. And the damn bitch knows that, too.