The chosen well has no bottom. Only depths that remember your name before you do.
The well does not give answers. It gives echoes. And once you have heard yours, you carry it like a second heartbeat, soft and certain, until the day you return—not to ask again, but to become part of the water.
Here’s a piece of evocative text inspired by the phrase The Chosen Well of Souls
And when you drink? You do not quench thirst. You inherit a question: What will you lower into me?
