Jack reached the well first. The old stone rim was now dusted with purple. He leaned over to drop the pail, but the petals had clogged the mechanism. The rope slipped. The pail tumbled into the lavender-slick darkness.
“Don’t let go,” he whispered.
Jack’s broken watch was ticking again. Jill’s childhood scar had faded. And neither of them could remember the name of the person who had broken Jill’s heart the winter before. jackandjill lavynder rain
Jill laughed—a startled, petal-muffled sound. She reached over and took his hand. Jack reached the well first