Purple Pop's Arc

Chapter 8 of 16

Before sunrise, Purple Pop stood at the stone well house in the town square. She cranked the rope and hauled bucket after bucket. Her arms burned. The sky was turning pink, and she had not even started baking. This could not be her every morning. She loaded the buckets onto her violet donkey and hurried back. At the barn, she poured the water into a lavender tin tub set under the eaves to catch rain. It would help on wet days. But the sky was clear, and the tub sat almost empty. Purple Pop watched the sun climb. She thought of the long walk, the heavy rope, the wasted hours. Her candies would never reach the cart on time. A real parlor needed steady water, not buckets dragged across town. She remembered a place past the meadow, where a bright river ran over smooth plum stones. A small stable stood right beside it. She had passed it once and thought it too far. Now it looked like the only answer. Purple Pop set out with her donkey. The spotted sheepdog trotted along, tail high. At the riverside stable, she knocked on the keeper's door. She offered a tin of caramels each week as part of the rent. The keeper tasted one, smiled, and handed her the key. By noon, her donkey was settled in the new stall. Water ran clear just steps away. Purple Pop closed the stall door and breathed out. The mornings were hers again, but now she had two barns, two rents, and a cottage kitchen still too small for the dream waiting ahead.