Jack and Jill

“Are we in a time warp?”

“Perhaps, I don’t recognize anything about where we are.”

Jack and Jill stood at the bottom of a hill.

“How did we get here?” Jill questioned Jack.

“I remember going up a large hill. Something about getting some water. But that doesn’t make sense. Why would we do that? We live just down the street,” Jack’s hand shielded his eyes against a blazing sun.

Jill dropped the wooden pail in her hand. “Why am I carrying this? It weighs a ton.”

“Bloody h..My head hurts,” whined Jack as he wiped his forehead. A little streak of red colored his hand.

“That’s blood, how did you get hurt?” Jill started to touch Jack’s head.

“Don’t touch me! You’re all dirty. Did you fall down?”

Jill inspected her knees, scraped; elbows, scraped; dress, torn and dirty. “I must’ve. Why am I dressed like a little girl?” Jill started to sniffle, then cry.

“Stop! Don’t do that. Don’t act like a baby.”

“What is this place? I’m scared. I don’t see our houses.” Jill stifled some sobs, wiped her nose on the hem of her ripped dress.

Jack turned in circles, “Surely we must be in another part of town. Somewhere I’ve never been before. But why our goofy clothes? You in that dress, me in short pants.”

“It’s a bad dream. I’m dreaming. I’ll wake up, it’ll be alright.” Jill sat on the ground.

“Get up, let’s go for help,” demanded Jack, then suddenly the ground opened up, swallowed them where they tumbled for what seemed like hours.

Time was reset. Jack woke in his bed, Jill in hers.

Neither remember what happened on that day before the day before Christmas, that time of wonders and miracles when for a time they were children again.

W/C 300