just out of frame
Aaron checked the barbeque hotplate was off, waved his hand over it and felt the heat it retained and headed to the outdoor table with a platter of sausages, steaks, and chicken kebabs where his mates picked what they wanted and added to plates with varying portions of salad and vegetables. Across the table from him, his best friend sat and stripped three chicken kebabs off the skewers; the type of man who always said “bicycle” and never “bike.” Aaron pulled his phone from his pocket and started to scroll through the photo gallery looking for his best friend. There was heaps of photos from backyard get togethers, gigs, some holidays, and in all of them, he was on the edges of the frame or hidden behind another person. Someone who meant so much to him was never fully there in the record of their friendship.
A Fullness in Brevity - Adam Byatt 