Mark’s shoulders slumped, when he noticed Jake slouching along on his long thin legs on the other side of the road. With a sigh, Mark put up a hand and put his phone into his pocket without pressing send.
‘Hey,’ he said. Jake saw him, smiled and crossed the road.
‘How are you?’ Jake gave him a high-five.
‘Fine, you?’
‘Great,’ said Jake, ‘just coming from Wendy’s. It was a hot night, I can tell you. Whoo.’ Jake fanned himself with his coat collar.
Mark stood with his hands in his pockets and looked back the way he came.
‘Mac-attack?’ asked Jake.
‘Had too much junk food this week.’
‘A box of fries never hurt anyone,’ Jake only ate a single meal a day, but it was triple size of what Mark had ever seen anyone else eat.
‘Nah,’ said Mark, ‘you go, I have stuff to do.’
‘Alright,’ Jake shrugged and strolled down the street, ‘I’ll eat a cheeseburger for you,’ he said over his shoulder.
‘I hope you choke on it,’ mumbled Mark, clenching his phone and the unsent message to Wendy in his pocket.
A Bolg? 