(My stories always include a little bit of real life and a little bit of fantasy. Enjoy. Xo)
Gwen was still licking her wounds from a night on the town the night before. She was stretched out on the couch with all the curtains drawn to make a dark little dungeon. She was deep in the story of Charles Manson when she was started by her phone.
*Who’s this?*
She didn’t recognize the number but did see that she had texted this person at 2:13am early this morning.
*This is Gwen. Who’s this?*
Great. Another piece of the mystery to solve from last night.
*This is Drew. How did you get my number?*
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember.
*I’m not too sure, Sir. Can you send a pic to jog my memory? I was out on the town last night and it’s a little foggy.*
Her phone dinged with the photo being sent. Hmm, she still didn’t remember him, but he was cute.
*I’m ashamed to say that I don’t remember you, but glad I got your number. Are you from my town?*