Water sloshed. Sweat poured. The bread and raisin cakes wore off hours ago, but Jacob was in too deep to quit, now. One-hundred feet above his head, cows mooed and sheep bleated. “Water!” they seemed to cry. Through the pungent air of the well, Jacob sighed.

I wonder what thoughts bubbled up in his mind. Of course, digging was difficult, but did it feel mundane? Ordinary? Dare I say, meaningless? …..