The three of them walked slowly toward the house at the end of the pier. Trying hard not to slur his words, Alan said, “We’re almost there, Andrea.”
“I’m not as stoned as I think I am,” she responded.
Harry burst out laughing. “You mean you’re not as stoned as we think you are.”
“That’s what I said,” Andrea pointed out.
“No,” Alan replied. “You said you’re not as stoned as you think you are.”
“Same difference.” Andrea smiled and said, “I told you my grandson’s pot-infused gummies would sneak up on you. Let’s all go skinny dipping, shall we?”
Written for Rachel Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Picture credit: Ted Strutz.