In short, everything about his life was different for him at the bottom of that well.
Don’t complain, don’t explain.
I am too nervous to eat pie.
My life is going to change. I feel it.
It's possible, in a poem or short story, to write about commonplace things and objects using commonplace but precise language, and to endow those things—a chair, a window curtain, a fork, a stone, a woman's earring—with immense, even startling power.
Isak Dinesen said that she wrote a little every day, without hope and without despair. I like that.