In the Mornings We All Meet at the Well Well

Well , well , someone says. Well, well, well, someone else replies. Well, well, well, well, here we are, someone&rsquo;s dad inevitably continues. It goes like this for hours. We forget we came here alone with our empty buckets. We forget that we came here hoping to be healed. Sarah Carson 's writing has appeared in The Rumpus, The Slowdown, Electric Literature, HAD , and elsewhere. You can read…