My head was still spinning from the night before. I didn’t remember much, but it had been a good night, that much I was sure. Jimmy always did say the best nights were the ones you couldn’t remember.
On the way to the corner store two woman whispered as I approached.
‘That was his friend,’ I overheard one of them say. Both sets of eyes looked towards me. Dismissive. Disgusted.
My phone buzzed. There were a dozen messages from Jimmy’s kid brother.
It was then I noticed the blood stain on my jeans.; it was then I started to remember – and panic.
These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.
It’s an old prompt, but a new story. No re-treads on here