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by Benjamin Miller
Sam strolled on the sidewalk, taking in the afternoon sunshine along with the cacophony of cars whizzing by on the street to his left. On right, his best friend Abby walked beside him, humming a tune to herself.
“Have you ever been in there?” Sam said, nodding towards an official government looking building.
Abby paused and followed his gaze, observing the chalk white columns and pillars holding up a thick, flat roof that supported an ovular structure above. The wide stone building held an air of regalia as a life-size bronze statue of William Mckinley, 25thPresident and Ohio native, gazed out along the West side of Columbus.
“Yeah.” Sam replied.
“Not since I was a kid.”
“Same here.” He said, then stopped and stared at the building with a thoughtful expression. “I remember it was so damn boring.”
Abby chuckled, “Yeah, and we had to pretend like we were listening so the teacher wouldn't yell at us.”
“Oh, to be young again.” Sam said with overly dramatic longing.
“You're only twenty-two.” Abby said, smiling.
“And I can't keep up with these young whipper-snappers and their dubbed steps!” He said, hunched over in a poor imitation of an old man. The two shared a laugh. “But wasn't being a kid great? I mean, I could be in a restaurant pretending my fork was a spaceship, noises 'n all. And no one would bat an eye. If I did it now, people would think I was crazy.”
“True, though my imaginary adventures with kitchenware weren't in public.”
“Well aren't you fancy.” Sam said in a joking tone. “What'd you do?”
“It started with my mom making me put the dishes away. I remember she had this one knife that she used all the time. I thought it was so cool; I mean, it was just an ordinary kitchen knife with a boring white handle and the blade wasn't even serrated. But when she wasn't around, I'd pretend I was a fearsome Amazonian warrior--”
“With a knife?”
“Lemme finish. The knife would transform into a huge blade that would catch on fire!” Her excitement rose. “And I would use this magical knife-sword of fire to slay the evil orange T-Rex that shot acid out if its mouth and could destroy the world.”
“An evil T-Rex?” Sam said in disbelief.
“You made forks into spaceships.”
“Touche'. Did your mom ever catch you swinging around her knife fighting dinosaurs?”
“Yeah. After that she would hide the knife from me.”
“Taken out of context that sentence would sound very serial killer-esque.”
“Thanks. Now are we done reminiscing?”
“Sure. Wanna get some food?” Sam said.
“Where do you wanna go?”
“Somewhere with forks and knives.” Said Sam with a smirk.
This story was based on these randomly generated images.