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The Whimsical Sketch

"How can you two be best friends? This is really a small world, isn't it? Wait . . . let me guess." I tapped my chin thoughtfully and glanced at Clark. His face was unreadable and stoic, but something was wrong, I could sense it. It seemed as if Clark wasn't pleased with what Ian had said about them being best buds.

"Aha! You both have faint British accent so you may know each other. Ian, you came from England to this town a few months ago and Clark just shifted over here, from England!" I punched my own palm in excitement and Ian chuckled. "I'm right, ain't I?"

Ian nodded and I smiled in victory. I was such a genius to figure it out. I dug my hands into my pocket and my skin felt smooth, crisp money. I suggested them, "Guys, I'm damn hungry. Let's go for lunch at Macpie's. And don't worry, I'll pay for my own lunch."

"Alright let's go," Ian replied. We both looked at Clark expectantly and he shrugged. So off we three musketeers went for lunch.

* * *

We were now sitting and waiting fo
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