It was just the two of them, cute 20-something-year-old guys. One pushed; the other sat still. One could speak, and did as he smiled hello; the other couldn’t move or talk or focus. But you could tell they were friends. Probably best friends at one point in their lives. One had clearly suffered a catastophic injury, who knew how long ago. The other had simply remained his friend.
And they came through the front door on this mild February Friday–two friends for lunch.
I hope they enjoyed it. I hope they remain friends forever.