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The following is an account of a reunion between two

friends. Each wrote a Story about the event, but did

not show the other person what they wrote, until now.

Part One: Fletch

My uncle gave me a ride to town. He Stopped at the wrong
house, but I told him it was okay, I would walk the reSt
of the way. I wanted to savour that moment: the inStant
before reuniting with an old friend. I have this Stubborn
idea about reunions, in which the other person will be both
completely different and exactly the same and will also
immediately recognize every nascent way I’ve developed
since we saw each other laSt. ’ve come and gone so many
times myself I should know better; no one else can fully
comprehend our own personal evolutions. I drew in a long
breath and rang the familiar bell.

You’re taller, you said, smiling.

You're skinmer, I said.

MELESS, TOO

AN EXERCISE IN THE MUTUAL INCLUSIVITY OF PERCEIVED RECOLLECTION IN SHARED EXPERIENCES

BY FLETCHER FITZGIBBON & JOEL ZUSHMAN

ARTWORK AND DESIGN BY JORDAN WEISS

It was the eve of your grandmother’s 95" birthday,
and the Zushman family was in the kitchen, making
cucumber sandwiches. There was a whole assembly
line going: your mom cut the vegetables while your
aunt spread the cheese and your dad came in at the
end with an electric knife. A family friend oversaw the
operation. You and I sat at the counter and ate scraps
like seagulls. Whoa, look at that one, it’s Sull gol some cucumber
on it! Everyone was having a great time.

After all the sandwiches were made, you and I sat in
the computer room and wondered what to do next. The
ball game wasn’t on for another hour. It was three P.M.
on a Friday afternoon,

I said I wouldn’t mind looking for Fletch, our friend’s
cat who lived in the neighbourhood and happened to
share my name. I had a longStanding superStition that
the cat’s life and mine were somehow intertwined, and
whatever happened to the cat would happen to me at the
age that correctly corresponded to the ratio of human
to cat years. I had heard Fletch wasn’t doing too well.
Neither of us had cell phones, so you called Scruff on
the house phone.