Gemotions

The air in the pub was thick with the scent of beer and camaraderie, and Ben was holding court, reliving their disastrous attempt to make pizza. He spoke of the dough failing, the sauce exploding, and the kitchen erupting in flames.

I took a large gulp of my pint, a warm sensation spreading through me. The actual pizza, while not winning any awards, had been edible. And the "fire" was a small puff of smoke.

Ben was elaborating, describing the chaos, the mess, and their eventual surrender to takeout. I felt my lips tilt upward, a feeling of bubbly glee.

He looked at me, a grin on his face. "Best pizza we never made, right?" I offered a nod, the memory was a treasure.