This is my response to a story request. I’ve never written anything this dark or violent before, please let know what you think.
The Quarry, as it was known to the people in the surrounding town, was a perfect rectangle, 500 feet by 300 feet, and at least 250 feet deep, but no one knew exactly how far down it went, has been inactive since the late 1950’s. While it was still producing limestone, the constant blasting, and dust, and heavy machinery made the surrounding area some of the least valuable property in the county, which is why Randall’s grandfather, also named Randall, bought it. He didn’t have the foresight to realize that when the mining operation struck enough underground springs the open pit would be allowed to fill with cool, clear water, and would form an idyllic freshwater lake. No, Randall’s grandfather, just like Randall, was dirt poor, and bought the land because it was all he could afford.