Sunday Photo Fiction time (I’ve been away too long) and another opportunity to turn a picture that’s worth a thousand words into a picture of 200 words or fewer — hopefully.
Where to go with that oh-so-harmless-looking well?
“Back to the well,” Jax said, a wry smile on his face.
It was a running joke. A well with no water, sandwiched in an alley and flanked by a flower bed that never needed watering. No one knew why. The soil was permanently wet and the flowers forever nourished.
“I’m welling up,” I replied.
The running joke had become a game. How many bad puns could you come up with before drawing a blank.
“Well said,” Jax answered.
“Well played,” I replied.
“I’ll allow it, though I don’t feel well about it.”
“Well done.” Actual awe in Jax’s voice.
“Well, I am the best.”
“Well, why not feel that way,” he said. “You’ve done well for yourself so far.”
“Ouch, a double helping of wellness,” I mocked.
“That doesn’t count,” he jumped in.
“Well, if you’d have waited I would’ve had another retort,” I smirked. “But you were well ahead of me getting out a response.”
He looked at me, then back at the well. It just sat there, not even echoing our bad jokes because there was no depth to it. Jax had no response.
“Well,” I stood up. “I guess I win.”