The Water Tower

This is a post in regards to a friendly writing challenge. Enjoy, it’s wonderfully captivating.





The dark clouds moved across the sky, bringing the sweet aroma of raindrops.  Charlie could feel it coming, the old crick in his knee flaring and sending spasms up through his ancient leg.  When he was eighteen, Charlie had climbed the old water tower in town on a dare.  The bad joint and the infamy of falling from the tower was all that remained of his youth.  Sometimes, Charlie would stand below that old water tower and imagine climbing it once again.  He remembered the fear winding its way through his body as his foot hit the first rung of the rickety ladder.

Charlie sighed, pushing the old memory from his withered mind, and continued towards his truck.  As he climbed into the cab of a truck that was almost as old as he was, Charlie said a silent prayer that Bill would have what he needed. …

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