Thanks to dear Rochelle for hosting the Friday Fictioneers and to Na’ama Yahuda for the photo.
Kasper paused outside the Olive Grove bistro, in Manhattan, the place Mark suggested. . He recognised the stooped man reflected in the window, framed by dark storm clouds overhead. Mark was his best buddy at school, thirty years ago.
‘I must be crazy’ he thought , ‘Mark will make me talk about my awful separation from Rachel, how I lost faith in my human rights work. Mark was there for me, he believed in my worth. Will he still ?
Mark approached Kasper, smiling broadly and said
‘Hello old friend, what news ?’