“Yeah, when we were kids. But these past few years, if we weren’t fighting, you were just driving me to school.” I paused. “I want to learn how to smoke pot. I want to drink with people other than family. For once I want to be less hippy, more athletic. You seem so happy now, but I never thought I’d miss having you around.”
“I’m not happy,” he said. “But thanks for missing me.”
(from a short story I am writing.)
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