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Weekly Contest #160
We stood on the porch together, staring at the vast blue twilight above the horizon, waiting for the man with no eyes. He sells water, and we pay with our dreams. He first arrived three years into the drought, when the town well eventually dried out and rumours of people drinking blood to survive began to circulate. He walked out of the desert in a red beanie that covered half his face and his eyes, a grey raincoat, black jeans and navy Chelsea boots. Leaning against the well, he said he would return weekly to trade water for the tow...
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