Fishing with Dynamite

“What are you talking about now?”  Lewis looked worriedly at his only friend.  “You drifting off on me again?  You could be allergic.”

“Yeah, just over there.  Teen sweetheart.”  Jack stood up.  “She could still be there.”  Jack wobbled and shook his head.  “Shovel?  There a shovel in the boot?”  Jack sometimes liked to fake a British accent.  He wasn’t very good at accents though.

“Just a garden trowel.”  Lewis stood up.  “Why?”

“Wanna visit her.”  Jack pointed at the bank covered with fish bones.

“You’re getting way out there again.  Sit down!”  Lewis demanded.  “Look at your hand.”

“Get the shovel!”  Jack muttered turning toward the car.  He couldn’t remember taking this car.  It puzzled Jack.  He usually remembered all the cars he took.  “Feel hot!”





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