Talking With A Friend

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It was 6th June 1928. In an ideal world, we would all be celebrating Leta and Theseus' marriage. Instead I was numb with pain. I had spent days crying over Leta. I couldn't feel any emotion.

I decided to go to Theseus' house. We weren't exactly the best of friends but I had to talk to someone, it was killing me.

I knocked on the door.
"Anna, how are you?" he asked, his eyes swollen red.
I glanced at him.
"Right, silly question," he laughed awkwardly.

"I don't think there's silly questions just silly answers," I replied.
"Would you like to come in?" he asked, "Tea?"

"Yes please," I said.

I sat by the table, "Thank you."
We sat there for a few minutes in silence but it wasn't awkward, it was peaceful.

"I painted a picture of Leta, usually I paint animals but I figured this was a special occasion," I said, taking the painting out of my bag.

He looked at it, "It's beautiful. She's beautiful."
"I'm so sorry Theseus, I'm sure your wedding would've been amazing," I said, tears in my eyes.

"Thank you, are you alright?" he asked, "She was your friend."

"Well, I don't think we were as close as we were when we were younger but I think we both still cared for each other just as much," I said.

He nodded, "Do you want to have dinner? I made roast chicken."

I smiled, "Sure."

So, we spent the evening recalling memories and eating dinner.

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