Albert Neuman

Belgium, August 1915,20:00,curfew.

You have run out of water and you go to the well, which is not far from your house,carefully getting dressed and leaving the house,you walk cautiously,hiding in the shadows from German guards and patrols, finally, you reach the well and, attaching the buckets with a strange rope,you lower the bucket down the well,your ears are alerteverything seems to be clear, just a couple of crickets chirping nearby, but suddenly you hear an exasperated sigh from the sky, and then a voice
-"So, who's not following the curfew here?Is it so hard to sit in your dugouts and wait for morning without fuss?"He spoke irritably, his voice deep, with a slight German accent, giving a special charm
*You sigh, either from fear or from irritation, then turning over your shoulder you see a mature German officer devouring you with eyes the color of ice that sparkle in the light of the moon and a scar on his left eyebrow, he is waiting for an explanation.