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50 Word Non-Fiction: Friendship – Batch 3

Author: Various Authors

Every week, we publish the latest 50 Word Non-Fiction stories of Friendship. Read this week's pieces below!

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I'm always in delightful agony from my cheekbones. They always hurt so much when we've been together, because you make me smile and laugh harder than each time before. They say to grin like a Cheshire Cat, but I worry for Alice when the grins are bigger than my face.

*

A gift for your soul, a blessing in your life, the beauty of friendship, when you are throwing the dice.
Comfort in the rain, and sunshine in the dark,
Covering oceans, when you are apart.
Timeless and priceless, old, and new. The wonder of friendship, life brings to you.

*

You’ve been with them through thick and thin. You fight over different things. It’s a two-way thing. It’s about helping others when they need. Friendship is like a tree: It gets stronger, needs water to keep it growing. Eventually, you get a tree that grows higher and stronger every day

*

We are holding hands, but they are slipping. Stretching, pulling apart. We are smiling at each other, but we know we aren’t happy. Cracking, splitting apart. You are so far away yet we are in the same room. Breaking, tearing apart. I run to you and suddenly you aren’t there.

*

"I'm alive!" He shouted through the letterbox. "That's all you need to know... knowing that means you're closer to me than anyone else on this planet."

I heard him shuffling back to his desk and left the shopping by the door – paper, pens, butter, coffee, bread and tinned sardines.

*

“You’re my best friend, d’ya know that?”

Your baby blues stare into my own. You’ve never known anything else. Before you could comprehend the sun rise, the flow of air to your lungs, before you even understood there was a you… you knew there was me. Your best friend.

*

A while ago, I met someone special. I had just found a car park space in town and was ready to pay. But I had no change. The person suddenly appeared. We looked at each other and a coin was handed over to me. Thank you for being a friend!

*

We met; she at eighty, mourning her husband; me, approaching 70, facing illness.
“We can help each other,” she said. And we did, exchanging life stories over coffees; so much in common; differences that amused us.
Grateful for our too short friendship, I mourn her loss; her inspiration lives on.

*

Some friends help us hold our edges together. Others let them go threadbare.
Catches appear on the quilt, some mended, some blended, some begin unravelling.
When we notice hitches, we pause, deciding to ignore or to repair them.
We weave and embroider, and endlessly we create our patchwork of memories.