Summer died that night. It should have been like any other night of vacation. Most of my friends and I spent our free time riding in Joe’s red and white corvette, singing and laughing. We would go to the candlepin bowling alley and drink Coca-Cola and eat salt laden french fries with ketchup.
I was pretty good at bowling, but it didn’t matter at all to any of us, we were just having fun.
Joe was a good driver, even with all of us packed in distracting him. We never had an inkling of danger.
The night summer died for all of us was Joe’s accident after leaving us off to park the car. A drunk patron from the bowling alley ran full force over Joe as he walked from the car to the building. None of the rest of us could believe our beloved friend was killed. Such is the innocence of youth.