Hot Desert Sun: Yes, I’ve turned you into a well.
Man: Why?! Why would you do that?
Hot Desert Sun: Because you said you were thirsty.
Man: And this is how you bring me gifts? For all that is mighty, I can’t even drink myself! Did you take that into account, you silly sweaty sun??!
Hot Desert Sun: I suppose not.
Hot Desert Sun: Well, nothing. You screamed and shouted and called me silly and sweaty. I’m not fond of name calling. Enjoy eternity amidst the boundless sands, you…you…
Man: ME WHAT??
Hot Desert Sun: You…nothing. I won’t reciprocate that kind of informal behavior. Goodbye, Well.
The yelling, cursing, whining, and screaming continues for quite some time before the man, cough, well begins to weep itself to sleep.
(Sketch drawn by me.)
Looking for a new read? Take the car out for a moonlit drive 🌙 , roll the windows down 🚗 , crank up the jukebox oldies 🎵 , and check out my debut poetry collection Strange Cars in the Night on Amazon today.
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