A short story.
LOVE – a memory.
I moved back to my old town because I had heard an old friend was going through a divorce. We had been best friends in high school but we had lost contact when I moved away. I thought it would be good to move home. I had recently quit my job and I wanted to take a year off to write a novel and since the city is so expensive I figured I could live in my home town for next to nothing. My old town is very old, in the sense that the buildings were about two hundred years old. A big old river ran through it which I used to swim across when I was boy when the summers were honest and hot.
My friend, Neil, had married a blonde girl when we were nineteen. I had come back for the wedding and regretted…
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