Gemotions

“You really think the dog was *brown*?” Alex asked, a smirk playing on his lips. His friend, Ben, chuckled. They were sat in a pub, reliving old times.

Alex remembered the incident perfectly. He recalled a small, scruffy, black and white terrier. It had run right through the open door of the store when they were kids. They’d spent hours trying to find it. Ben, on the other hand, swore that the dog was a large, chocolate-colored Labrador.

A wave of frustration washed over Alex. The simple disagreement felt strangely significant. The more he pressed, the more Ben insisted. Alex drained his pint, a sour taste on his tongue. He had always taken his memories for granted.