A hollow, shelled husk of what I’d refer to as an airport. Maybe my friends still exist in some way. Maybe they exist beyond the weakening memories. Do they remember me? Am I just a weak, rough memory for their minds to ponder over, as well? Am I just a wilted, discarded husk in a long since abandoned airport? Sometimes I worry that I’ll never fly again. Sometimes I worry that the clouds will always waltz so high above me, their only contact being the occasional tears of pity they cry down on. Her top was relatively modest, a black turtleneck sweater that firmly held her beautiful breasts in place, but it was the rest of her ensemble that made me stare. She had a short black leather skirt, and leather boots, adorned with buckles, that went up to her knees.“Had a good look?” She asked as she could easily tell I was checking her out.“Um… yes, I mean, I’m surprised,” I responded in a haze of confusion and shock.“Surprised I invited you to a party, and I’m wearing this?” She gestured to. He wished me a good day and told me to take the day off. I was little disappointed, his daughter, who also worked there, was a pretty good conversation buddy who helped alleviate some of my boredom. Nothing I could do, so I turned around and went home.Another blur, and I was standing in my room. Sitting down on the bed tapping my foot for no reason, I pondered what to do. No one else was home yet, dad was working I assumed, Wendy was out with her friends, mom was with Billy doing... Whatever he. His bright smile was contangious to the point that, even in one of my worst moods, I couldn't help but smile as well. For the longest time I thought of him as just my best friend. That all changed shortly after my twentieth birthday.I've always been taller than Nick, enough that it was definitely noticable. My body has been wide since I was young. Not necessarily muscular, just wide and often a little over-weight. His frame was smaller and softer, always boyish but just soft enough that.
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