For Friday Fictioneers 100-Word Challenge: 2 October 2015
“Dammit, drink,” Charlie insisted.
But I couldn’t.
Charlie was my best friend in grade school. After losing contact for years, I was happy to join him for beer. It was then I realized he had changed and so did I.
“No,” I said.
We had a share of mischiefs before like scaring girls with a fake mouse, but shoplifting six-pack of beer was a little over the top.
Suddenly without warning, he hit me hard on the back of my head.
When I came to later, he was apologetic.
“I gotta go,” I said. I left and never looked back.