In the Midnight Hour

Solitary Sid surprised himself, attended Marcia and Marty’s do. Cynical Sid always told the same “joke:” “They’ve invited their 250 closest friends.” Not tonight, Sidney. He’d long been out of circulation. Turnout sparse, they’d more likely invited the hundred they knew were still alive.

Unsettled Sid circulated, chatted up the lame and the halt, joshed the chair bound, jollied the crutch riding, joked with widows and widowers. He skipped sipping wine, chugged a double bourbon.

Smiling Sid drove home feeling no pain, but scraped a wall parking his car. “Oops, I’ll fix that before Niles and Nellie’s party next month.”