I never throw coins into a fountains and make wishes because of what happened at the Old Well on my Grandma Tilly’s property 50 years ago.
She had this well way back on her property- just passed the family cemetery and from there almost a half mile from the tree where people liked to hang themselves
Grandma Tilly figured about a dozen people hung themselves from that tree. Grandpa Wolfie was all for cutting it down but she was convinced those souls were caught in the branches and if she cut it down they’d walk around her property and make it creepier than it was already.
” I don’t think that possible Tilly.” Grandpa Wolfie said once as they stood under the tree and looked up into it’s branches. ” I mean, there is that story about your Aunt Birdie burying that daughter of her’s in the basement.”
” Don’t you ever pay attention to what I say Wolfie? Birdie put her in the attic. In the trunk. You know that.”
” So the story goes. But we both know that between your Murdering Aunt and this tree we’re never going to be able to be rid of this property and retire to Peru like we said we would one day.”
Grandma Tilly heaved a heavy sigh.
” I do wish this was a happier place. ” Grandma Tilly sighed.
” Can you imagine this place, carefree and happy. People laughing and all.”