Four Of A Kind

Sat, 10 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000

The bell chimes. I glance at the clock. 7:45. It’s Hank. Has to be Hank. He’s always early. Of the three he’s my least favorite, one of those loud-talking, jolly types, but he and Rod are bff, so there you go.

“Hey! Amigo! Que pasa?”

“Hey.”

We go into the kitchen, I crack open a couple of beers, then head into the den. The sports channel is on the TV. Soccer highlights. Hank grabs the remote and thumbs it until he finds baseball.

Social on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Four Of A Kind