Epilogue
Two farmers stood by a well.
The day was warm. They were thirsty from their labors.
Except that when the first drank from the freshly pulled bucket, he recoiled in disgust. “The well’s gone bad!”
“No way. Let me see that.”
The workers’ fields depended on this well. It had been dug exceedingly deep a long time ago and had provided good water for generations untold.
The second took the bucket, sniffed it, then gagged when the smell hit his nostrils. “It smells like it came out of the ocean.”
“Don’t be foolish. Somebody must have thrown a dead cat down there or something.”
“Trust me. I grew up near the seashore. I’ll never forget that stink.” He cupped one calloused hand into the bucket and lifted the water to his lips, only to promptly spit it out. “Saltwater!”
Why did their well suddenly taste like the ocean?
They were far inland, hundreds of miles from the sea.