Text A: an original contemporary practice extract.

The fountain had been dry for as long as I could remember. When water began running through its stone basin again, I stopped on my way back from the shops and filled my bottle. The first mouthful was colder than I expected. A woman waiting nearby asked whether it was working, and soon we were both watching the thin stream fall into the bowl.

I like that the fountain offers something ordinary without asking anyone to buy it. On warm afternoons, people sit on the low wall beside it, and cyclists pause to refill their bottles. It is not the centre of the square, but it gives the place a reason to slow down for a moment. Even when nobody is drinking, the sound makes the square feel less empty.

Of course, a fountain cannot solve every problem a person might have on a long walk. It is one useful thing in one public place. Still, I am glad it was repaired. Passing it now, I notice more than the carved stone: I notice people sharing the space around it.

Text B: an original contemporary practice extract.

The town square’s restored fountain looks impressive, but I would rather have seen the space used for something people can rely on. On my first visit, the basin was full and the water running. A week later, a handwritten notice said it had been turned off while a repair was arranged. The fountain had become a feature to admire, not a source of water to count on.

I do not object to making the square attractive. The carved basin is carefully made, and people stop to look at it. But a public fitting should be judged by more than its appearance or the sound it makes. If it works only sometimes, the person who has brought an empty bottle still has to find water elsewhere.

Leave the stonework in place if residents value it. I would simply prefer a clear notice when the water is unavailable, and a dependable way for people to refill a bottle nearby. Decoration can make a square memorable; practical arrangements are what make it useful on an ordinary day.