This week’s photo prompt for Madison Woods Friday Fictioneers challenge is truly a challenge because it does nothing to me. I do remember one time being out on a high-rise balcony. It was nothing special, I gotta tell ya. But here goes:

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I stepped out on the balcony. The marijuana smoke was overbearing inside. I didn’t belong in there. Ah, but where? My friend Marty and his stoned-out buddies were passionately discussing the merits of various rock bands. Marty was a decent enough guy, but not too bright. His voice rose above the others. He was defending somebody’s lead guitarist.  A woman stepped out, smoking a joint. “OK, I’ll have a drag. Sure.” Her name was Diana and she was beautiful. Then her boyfriend appeared reaching his arm around her waist as she kissed him. I thought briefly about jumping, and then went back inside to join the guitar symposium.

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