A ship in a bottle lay at the base of a fractured headstone. A slender figure took a step back and returned one hand to a pocket, the other under his sandpaper chin. A prickly week’s growth of chin fuzz peppered his face. He itched it with his thumb.

‘Barely had any time to shave.’ His inner voice reminded.

Gazing like a child making up his own game, a smirk lifted on his thin face. Every letter of the inscription read carefully, he teleported his own mind back to his beloved friends.

*

Mikey

The leader of the gang. Threw his inhaler on the beach, kissed a girl before any of us and helped us realise when it was our time. Taught us to make a difference for ourselves, to never give up, to believe in ourselves. Mikey, my friend. Remember when those goddamn Fratellis were gonna blend my hand! I think it was the vomit story that distracted them in time. Eugh! I can just feel the rocky road coming back up.

Now you look after our relics, just like your Dad. You took over as curator at the museum and enlighten the new residents of Astoria to our adventures.

Data

“Booty Traps!” Oh Data, semantics aside, we would never have survived without your gadgets. I was always secretly impressed with your creativity genius. But I was always too concerned with getting our friends to notice me, or to recognise my stories - I was still being deadly serious about Michael Jackson’s sister at my house; she even said she’d get us in the next MJ music video. Just kidding! That was one last one for old times sake. Thanks for everything Data. You saved my skin more times than I can count.

Now your gadgets are just Sunday projects. You run a computer software company on the East Coast somewhere. A devoted husband and father to two.

Mouth

You were an asshole to me at times - let’s just get that out of the way first. When I look back now, you were a real piece of work. Sometimes selfish, sometimes even more scared than me. You didn’t heed my warnings, just like the others. Luckily we made it. But I am thankful for you pal. Mouth, you gave me confidence. You taught me to stand up for myself, you even took responsibility when it was needed. But most of all, the thing I still cherish you for now, is you fierce loyalty.

Now you explore the country. Playing music at open mic nights. Couch surfing as and when you need to. Even slept on my couch a few times.

*

He gulped hard. Feet planted firmly on the moist spring grass. Pocket of his sweater jutting out with a small cuboid form. Reaching inside he pulled out the object. Laid it lovingly on the head of stone. A Baby Ruth.

“I miss you most buddy.”

A speech bubble whisper blew from his lips. Softly and quietly.

“I love you too... sloth.”