The traffic was continual, humming into his left ear amid neck craning for views in all of the car mirrors, ready for a glimpse of his visitor. He was supposed to be here three minutes ago, totally pushing his luck by being parked in the airport pickup and they tow and ticket readily now. The heat, the traffic, the stress: all gone when the visitor poked a friendly face through the open passenger window. Back slapping and handshakes and grins followed, and they were out of there and onward to the long weekend ahead. He hadn't seen his old friend, his truest companion in the state he left to save and repair his family, in over a year. And it felt good to be sitting here in his car, talking silly stuff and feeling close after such a long absence.
The visitor looked about the same, a couple of more lines around the eyes and shorter hair. But it was the same old guy he shared so much with in South when all his other friends were left behind and his home town was distant and that new city felt cold and unwelcoming. This friend, this local "cool" guy, befriended him and together they shared good times, bad situations, and all that shit in between that glues together the days on the calendar.
Stopping in for some beers, gas, and snacks, they both realized how much their old times had changed, the move back home separating the familiar routines, making the contact between them less frequent. Ah, but the visitor was here now, his past connected, a landmark in their friendship. Nothing but fun for a good couple of days.
To Be Continued
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