well

Well 1; introduction

The country was a bustling one, the street of Hermosa was busy this friday

morning, all the merchants and traders could be seen exchanging goods.

While the people trades, some others where in their mix of baking, seaming,

hunting, fishing and planting, all the services done on this good friday.

After a few hours of trading, you could see the scorching fire of the sun

shining over the aluminum rooftop of the village shops, the market place has

reduced in numbers but they was still a great number of people that

afternoon.

Young Miss Maurice Dallas walked her way with a scarf to protect herself

from the sun, she had forgotten to pick ripe melons for desert for the night

and had to run out to get it before she tires up.

Good to see you again Miss Maurice, did you forget to pick up fruits today,

your usual? the middle aged man spoke to her as he wiped his hands on his

brown apron.

Yes Mr Orin, hope trading was successful today, I would need some oranges,

raspberries, apples, lemons and some melons for today.

Yes it has, I will get them right away.

Thank you she replied.

The man went in to he's stall and got the item Miss Annika requested.

As she walked by again through the market roads, the market women still

brought their whispers as they did that early morning, when she came to

pick her daily need of bread, butter, eggs and pork.

"The whoring witch, one of the women which stood in front of a jewelry

shop spoke a little loud in disgust, stay away from her I tell you,

isn't it bad enough her mother was a harlot but she's not just it but also a

witch too,another woman with red painted lips spoke fanning her self.

Stigma

I saw her speaking with Elliot the village hunter's son, I'm sure she was

trying to bewitch him to her hut

It's no lie that the apple never falls too far from the tree, seeing a long stream

of both married and young men eye her slyly lady Gill a middle class lady

spoke with her hand fan over her nose.

Maurice had ignored it and had gotten green to this daily moments of

whispers and daily ill comments.

Maurice made her way back to a cottage fit for the full numbers of a nuclear

family, letting a sigh of relief she dropped her basket and plushies on the

kitchen stool.

Taking off her scarf, she arranged her meal and decided to draw water from

the well to bath. Every homes had a well dogged up by the feudal lord a few

decades ago for different benefits, for reduction of crimes, security and easy

form of living.

A few years ago the crimes in the land was at peek, where females got

missing or raped or eventually killed all in the name of going to fetch a

bucket of water, or taking a bath at ungodly hours, grown men got rubbed on

the days light in the forests as the take to a barrel of water from the

community's stream or from village pump in the middle of the city.