Here’s the second in the trio of flash fiction stories I submitted to a flash magazine in 2014. This one is, obviously, quite short.

The table lined with pastries, candies, hamburgers, hotdogs, soda and punch had become my refuge. There they were, all of them, from many years ago, mingling, talking, laughing. Some were noticeably older, others looked the same. I pulled back the sleeve on my arm to my fading scars — a reunion, indeed.

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