2006-04-03 0011 Writing: “Yeh, sorry guys. Look, drink one for me, will you? Thanks.”

Drink one for me

“Yeh, sorry guys. Look, drink one for me, will you? Thanks.”
Jack shut off his phone, wheezing as he lowered back into the bed. His whole body ached like one huge rotten tooth, his shoulders burning from the effort of holding him up. He sighed, a mixture of relief and regret. This was the first time he’d missed Friday Night in four years. The guys would rib him about it for months to come.

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