Boring Day

Boring Day

Jack and Tom ran to the end of the street where they stopped.

“Let’s get out of here!” Jack yelled at Tom.

“And go where?” Tom yelled back. “There’s nowhere we can go. The wall and fence are too high."

Indeed, the wall in front of them stretched to the sky. Then the fence to the sides of them stretched also to the sky. No way out.

Then they were in a meadow, blue sky above, sagebrush all around.

“How in bloody blazes did we get here?” asked Jack.

“I know the author,” stated Tom with some authority.

“Well tell that author to think a bit further ahead,” said Jack as a bear charged toward them.

Tom wiped his eyes, Jack wiped his face as they paddled the canoe down the raging river.

“Is that writer mad? Take his pen away. Put us back where we were.” Jack paddled furiously.

Tom and Jack sat at the table in Tom’s house.

“That’s better. Now, what were we doing?”

“I think we were complaining we were bored,” said Tom.





W/C 177