Traumatic Flashbacks

S was with me at a table at this party. But she left I think and now I’m by myself at a whole table. Like seventh grade.

The good news is guess who’s keeping me company from the next table over with his staring. Like eighth grade. Must be the popular table.

Nah, I’m kidding. Well he is over there, though. But not staring. Well, I don’t actually know that, I’m just assuming.

Anyway, I have to go. Lunch over. Have a nice afternoon, wherever you may be.