5SF Prompt: Forgotten
Like the pint glasses in front of us, the conversation's just about run dry when Sophia asks me if I remember that time when we were little and we got into some cans of house paint in her parent's garage.
I chew my lip and my eyes roll away from Sophia to the stuffed brown bear in the corner of the bar that looks like it was frozen mid-mauling with it's massive claws raised and its fanged maw open in a roar, just as a cute guy with a mustache I'm hoping is part of some group dare blocks my view, sees me, and grins.
Well hello, sailor.
I tell Sophia I don't remember the paint thing because my memory sucks and it's all a Big Bird colored haze until around kindergarten.
Sophia taps her pack of smokes on the bar and her mouth is a dark pink parenthesis when she says to the bartender, “I'ma need another shot,” and to me, “Lucky.”