Friends were a bizarre, volatile, contradictory, yet sticky phenomenon. They were made, crafted, shaped, molded, created by focused effort and intent. And yet, true friendship, once recognized, in its essence was effortless. She and Sam had been friends for as long as she could remember. He was sticky and whereas she preferred solitude. She was stingy with her words and on the other hand, he talked too much. But if she needed a shoulder to lean on, he would be the first one to offer apart from her family. That was their friendship: equal parts irritation and cooperation.
"Why are you here, Sam? I mean in Beijing." She asked him.
"Why I can't be here my dear best friend?"He retorted.
"Last I heard someone was whining not to return here again, " She replied.
"Says the woman who swore to never marry."He fired back.
Ouch! The idiot still knew how to press her sore point.
