Yesless

We went to a party.  I was as interesting as a cheese and onion pasty.

I wanted to say to everyone: “Just once, just for one night – no boring conversations.”

But then the onus would be on me.  They were already trying their best.  I didn’t know what I wanted.

I told them about things I had seen when I was walking home from work.

A lost boot.  A dead rat.  A whole stack of discarded lottery tickets, blown all across the pavement.

Cars were going past and I didn’t stop to pick up the tickets and check if there were any winnings.

But then I did, for some reason, start thinking about an old school friend.

He was a funny guy.

But the specific memory I had was of him leaving our school assembly in tears.

His uncle had passed away that morning.

I remembered sitting there, not listening to the assembly, hoping he was ok.

Some lottery tickets that had blown further down the road than the others and I was tempted to casually pick one up, thinking I could do it so quick no one driving past would notice.

But I didn’t.  I was thinking about whether there was a way to get back in touch with old friends.

Someone suggested that there were several websites that could be used to keep in touch with old friends.

Obviously, I knew about these already.  I had not taken the opportunity up until now, and I probably wouldn’t go looking for old friends first thing tomorrow morning.

Maybe everyone else realised this was a dead end, but I was just thinking about something else.

Then someone proposed a game.  Something fun.  Someone burped.  Someone laughed.

I laughed too.

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