April 16, 1984

a short story

Photo by Stephanie Harvey on Unsplash

“That’s quite tasty,” he said, carrying his beer into the main room and settling onto the geometric rug, crossing his legs at an angle to me.

“You don’t have to sit on the floor,” I motioned to the couch. “You can sit there if you’d like. I don’t mind or anything.”

“Sometimes I like this,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. He patted the rug. “It makes…