The Old Friends

Jack sat there alone, looking at the group of youngsters gearing up for their Friendship’s Day lunch. There was excitement and buzz among those kids, just like he had felt on this day, some 25 years ago. How much had changed he thought. That group of such good friends had drifted apart, or was he the one who had drifted apart from them?

His thoughts got interrupted by the noise at the table of youngsters. One of the guys was making a valiant attempt at catching the attention of the girl he fancied, at the rest of the group was in uproar because of that. The girl could not do much but blush.

He smiled to himself at the scene. His thoughts drifted to his mannerisms as a young man. He had some great times with those friends, and he sorely missed that. He wondered whether he would be sitting alone over a cup of coffee today if things had not gone sour between them. He made every attempt possible to replace those friends, with many combinations of new ones, but it just was never the same. He had friends today, lots of them, but none of them as true as those. That was why Jack enjoyed the solitude more than spending time with the people he now called friends.

Before he realized it, he was done with his coffee. He paid the bill, put on his coat and walked out of the café, feeling the warmth in his heart of good memories of a time long gone by. He thought of his old friends, smiled and hoped that one day the burnt bridges can be repaired.